Run
by Euphonemes
Summary: With Ande883. As the city of Zootopia recovers from a massive conspiracy, decorated ZPD officer Judy Hopps struggles to find meaning in her profession. But when an old friend offers up an idea on how she can truly serve her city and find purpose again, Judy will put to the test just what it means for anyone to be anything. (Intrigue; OC; Romance) - Cover art by Red Velvet Panda.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: This story stems from a personal interest in seeing how the city of Zootopia would develop after the events depicted in the film. It may seem a little slow-burn at times, but I hope you'll see the reasons for that as the story grows. I'll do my best to keep it updated with new chapters._**

 ** _Also, due to the setting of the story, SPOILERS are likely (though, at this point, maybe you should go see the movie!)_**

 ** _Please feel free to read and review - I appreciate good feedback!_**

 ** _That said, please enjoy Run. ~ Best, Euphonemes_**

* * *

 _Run_

"It's printed on _linen_? Well, isn't that just a shade too fancy. Sorry, can't go."

The invitation made a perceptible thump as it landed back onto the steel desk. Imprinted on the finest linen from the local stationery shop were the details for a party: names, addresses, a mouthwatering menu, an RSVP process, all written in large and fancy silver-inked calligraphy, the swooping letters glittering in the sunbeams filtering down through skylights. No expense had been spared to inform Officers Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde that their presences were requested at this grand event.

Her long gray ears drooped as her partner's vulpine paws relinquished the linen surprise that had appeared in the daily stack of mail scattered across their shared desk. In a heartbeat, Judy unleashed an adamant squeal that snaked through the aisles between rows of identical desks that made up this floor of the Zootopia Police Department's headquarters. Her tirade steamed ahead with usual speed. "Why not! The Ottertons were kind enough to invite us — they're such a nice family — so we have to go!"

The fellow officers' heads whipping toward the source of the commotion did not bother Officer Hopps. Her stalwart conviction, the tireless one and the same that had secured this job for her, directed her focus solely to Nick, invariably calm and collected. His typical snide grin flashed hints of sharpened canine teeth. He slouched against the desk's leg, the same devil-may-care attitude that had constantly frustrated her ever since she had unexpectedly met him in a popsicle shop. Though he may have traded in the dull and dingy green shirt for an iron-pressed ZPD uniform (complete with mirror-finished badge), he remained Judy's foil, as he had since his days of pawpsicle scamming.

She did not need him to say anything. His smirk gave it away. "Oh, I _hate_ it when you do that!"

The knowing chuckle escaped his grin. "And yet, you fall for it every time. Bit of a strange reason to have a party, though, don't'cha think?"

When Mr. Otterton had disappeared, and his wife had broken down outside Chief Bogo's door, Judy had done everything possible to reunite their family. And she had accomplished it — with some help, naturally. A year had passed since then. The date for the party would be the day Mr. Otterton had first vanished to be swept up in the city-wide conspiracy that had rattled Zootopia to its core. Perhaps Nick was right: it _was_ an odd anniversary to celebrate.

Nonetheless, the invitation sat, waiting to be marked and returned with their replies. Nick never backed down from this type of soiree, especially with the promise of something delectable — and free — awaiting his arrival. And Judy would certainly never disappoint the Ottertons. She motioned for Nick to take care of the invitation: a check mark next to "Attending" and a fresh stamp to send it back to their gracious hosts. His audible groan, almost petulant, was cut short when her large shimmering eyes, irises hinting of lavender, let loose a terrific glare.

"As you command," he blabbed with a mockingly graceful bow. She huffed as Nick swept up the invitation and trundled toward the post office drop box clear across the room. The desk chair squeaked as she lithely leaped into the comfortable cushion. Between colorful envelopes stuffed with junk mail were solitary forms, all half-completed by a Nick who detested the daily rounds of paperwork. One report for each crime, that was the plan...though these days, what qualified as a crime had been stretched to a ridiculous extent. Regardless, work needed to be done. Forms on three jaywalkers and a double-parked car were soon at the mercy of her pen.

Sensitive ears nabbed the sounds of the municipal police station in action as she filled in the long-winded paragraphs her partner had left blank. The cacophony of a hundred separately-set ringtones was joined by the shouts of officers in the middle of subduing a rowdy petty theft suspect, the hushed whispers of partners planning their after-work activities, the scribbles of writing instruments and the clacking of keyboards. Improperly trained ears would go mad listening to this mess. Judy added her own humming to the chorus of another busy day at ZPD as she hustled through form after form.

"Alright," Nick said as he suddenly reappeared next to Judy. Having been lost in the minutiae of a disorderly conduct report, she gasped. "Whoops, my bad there, Hopps. Didn't mean to startle ya…or did I?" The devilish grin again emerged.

Officer Nick Wilde had turned out to be quite the smart move for ZPD. His knowledge, garnered from years of street survival, more than compensated for the lack of paperwork expertise. Together, Nick and Judy had been two parts of a potent and balanced team, dispatched to mop up crime around the districts of Zootopia. They had done so with unequaled efficiency. Promotions that had once taunted them from far away now loomed, to be attained with an unprecedented speed. For Judy, a new title meant little, but she would catch Nick silently salivating at the prospect on the way out of the office before they shuffled off down the road in separate directions.

Nick wheeled over the chair from the adjoining desk and pulled up alongside Judy. The moment his paws touched the steel desktop, she slammed down a stack of forms and wordlessly pointed to them. With a resigned sigh, he began scribbling. "Well, Hopps," he said after laboriously filling in the "Name of Reporting Officer" box, "I'll be curious to see what the turnout at this shindig will be. A week's notice is not much to go on."

* * *

In a rare chivalric gesture, Nick had left the driver's seat and opened the car door for her. He had commandeered a police cruiser for the evening's festivities. Hopefully, no one would be terribly upset at their borrowing the newest and shiniest model. Before he had exited, a quick honk from the horn had signaled his curbside arrival, and Judy had bounded out the apartment lobby in a few steps.

She giggled as she daintily slipped into the passenger seat and smoothed out the ruffles forming in her gossamer evening gown while Nick shut the door behind her. The obsidian fabric strikingly complemented her coat of gray fur. Once Nick had started the car and pulled back into traffic, she caught his eyes as they sidled over to her seat.

"Watch the road, Mister Wilde."

He acquiesced with an amused grunt. The week had simply vanished. Truant kids and moving violations, with all their accompanying grueling paperwork, had devoured one workday after another. Whether completed by pen or by keyboard, forms had flown from inbox to outbox, leaving behind parting gifts of cramps that had nearly incapacitated her forelimbs. The ceaseless exasperated breaths and noisy puttering of her more deskwork-averse partner had not abated the pain.

Nick cleared his throat. She turned and listened. "We all missed you today at our all-team meeting."

She cracked a sheepish smirk as her eyes found the window once more. Streetlights flickered as they pulled onto a major road. "I know, I didn't wanna sneak out." An absentminded paw rolled around a wrinkle of the dress's sheer fabric. She whipped back to Nick and planted a big grin on her face. "But I had to go pick up this dress! What do you think?"

His chuckle made his amusement evident. "Hopps, it was totally worth skipping out on work for. You look absolutely ravishing."

"Hmph. What a charmer." Her look of derision belied the warm glow materializing in her belly. She shuffled her oblong feet and listened to the folds of the dress swish in the cabin. Judy knew the drive would not be long since she had looked up their route (and three alternate ones) beforehand. She was content to lean back and savor the ride.

Yet, even as the roads passed, curiosity nagged. "So what happened at this meeting?"

Nick clicked his tongue. "Eh, nothing special. Pinch hitter Francine joined the precinct's softball team, so they'll crush the fire department next week. They're slashing overtime pay — all the more reason to skip out. And then there was some new system they're installing in the phone lines."

"A new system?"

"Yeah, guess there's been some push for a…what'd Bogo call it, a _transparency initiative_ , that's it. Gonna record all incoming calls to the ZPD emergency hotline and then publish them online for public review."

"Oh. That sounds…interesting…but what if people don't want anyone to know they called? Or what if it's something super-secret?" Her paws were buzzing in her lap as caveats rapidly formed in her agile mind.

Nick slowed the car, the engine purring in harmony with the others in the sparse traffic. Their final turn was approaching. "I don't know, there was something about an algorithm or…look Hopps, just ask Bogo when you're in next. Hmm, won't he be delighted to find out you blew off his important meeting…."

He meant it teasingly, Judy knew, but he was far from incorrect. Judy did not want the wrath of Chief Bogo hanging over her head for long. She swallowed and then squeezed her paws until the car rolled to a stop.

Out the window, she saw a steady stream of visitors pouring into the Otterton residence. It was a modest home, distant enough from the main city to give adequate space for the one-floor ranch, but not the acreage to fit the palatial estates of those who lived out in the far reaches of districts like Tundratown. And tonight, there were sufficient partiers to have them fill the home and spill back out onto the neatly manicured lawn. As gregarious as Judy was, she balked at the crowd's size.

"Well then, looks like they got plenty of RSVPs. C'mon Hopps, let's get in there before all the good stuff is picked clean." Oblivious to Judy's abrupt attack of nerves, Nick exited the car and came round to open her door. Judy just then noticed Nick's choice of attire: a fascinating interpretation of semi-formal. His jacket was nearly a tuxedo, save for the secondhand fabric used in its construction. No tie — she had rather liked the slim striped one with which he had once adorned his neck. The shirt fit loosely, a snappy oxford for whatever creature had owned it before Nick, and it was mostly tucked into the pants that were just a hair long on the inseam. All told, it was maybe a bit too dressy, but otherwise a commendable effort from Nick.

"Eyes on the road, Miss Hopps." The door stood open, and Judy returned to the task at hand. She summoned a sly grin that elicited a chuckle from Nick, and she stepped out. As her feet alighted onto the pavement, an airiness overtook her, and soon, she and Nick cut through the amorphous crowd and swam upstream into the home proper.

* * *

Immediately upon entry, Nick broke their tight formation and headed directly for the buffet table. Judy's nose twitched as an especially pungent carrot scent wafted among the throngs of mammals. She tried to follow Nick, but a few partygoers stationed by the front door recognized her. The usual laudations followed forthwith.

"Thank you for your service!"

"You are a blessing to this city, ma'am."

"What you did — oh, I couldn't _imagine_! You must have been terrified!"

Patterns emerged in these trite adulations. She was always grateful, truly she was. She would fawn over their compliments and leave them smiling. Yet, her highly trained mind never failed to catch the signposts: "thank you," "brave," "true civil servant," "I saw you on TV."

There had been a lot of buzz following the Night Howler Incident, and she had been positioned at its very center. Interviews, appearances, swanky events: everything Judy Hopps hated. _A necessary part of the job_ , she had been told. Fortunately, Nick's wily brain had been invaluable in navigating these brightly-lit studios and dusky mixers. Without his guidance, Judy shuddered to think of what would have tumbled forth from her untrained mouth.

Even now, with the most basic of congratulations, the nervousness she had felt in the car was resurfacing. She flashed a winsome smile a few more times, then excused herself and dove into the party mob. Several more shouts of recognition popped up from various corners in the house, but she ducked and dodged, and cleared the room without engaging in another conversation. She came to rest against the inner wall of the Ottertons' living room, where she fortuitously found her host.

"Oh, Mr. Otterton! How nice to see you again!"

Mr. Otterton looked exactly the same as he did during their last meeting, save for the festive rainbow bowtie festooned around his neck. Wisps of chestnut fur poked out from the sleeves of his sweater as he waved hello to his guest. After a quick adjustment of his spectacles, he was alongside Judy.

"Officer Hopps! Or, ehm, Lieutenant Hopps, or, uh…I'm sorry…."

The laugh was automatic, but it was genuine and amicable. "No, please, Judy is fine."

"Of course, of course," he murmured, clearly appreciative of Judy's assistance. "Well then, _Judy_ , thank you for coming by tonight! It's certainly an honor to have you in our home."

"The honor is mine. You have a lovely house! Is this…where you lived before, or…?"

He tugged on one of his sweater's sleeves, a nervous tic perhaps. "Ah, no, we moved fairly recently. Our family needed more space than we could get in the city proper."

"Naturally!" Judy offered a polite smile, which seemed to set her host at greater ease.

"So...I was going to take a walk and observe, make the sure the party is still in order here. Probably stop by the kitchen, too. The caterers left a special soufflé with a good-sized pitcher of carrot purée…if you'd be interested in joining me, then…."

Her stomach rumbled at the thought. She picked up the bits of the scent from before as more partiers disturbed the air with their raucous movements. "Lead the way!"

Judy and Mr. Otterton ambled along the perimeter and chatted, straining to heave their voices over the din of the partying crowd. They discussed what had changed during the past year and touched briefly on plans for the future. Judy listened with interest, but she kept an eye peeled for her partner, who had yet to surface from his foray into the buffet line.

"I really struggle to believe that it's been a full year since…."

That drew Judy's attention. She stopped, immobilized by a burning question. Mr. Otterton noticed and waited patiently by the entryway to the kitchen.

"Sir, if I may," she began while kicking at the carpeting (made of incredibly soft fabric), "why did you pick _today_ to celebrate? I mean, it's the day a year ago when you were…."

"When I was taken, you mean?" She nodded, and he sighed. Spectacles lifted from the bridge of his nose, and he polished each lens carefully with the edge of his sweater. "Because, Judy, it's the day everything in my life changed."

He replaced his spectacles and blinked a few times as Judy stayed still. "Before I was taken, I did not…appreciate, truly and meaningfully appreciate, everything I had. My wife, I've always loved her dearly, but I _expected_ , always, to come home to her. And to hold my kids as they ran up to the door. When that was suddenly no longer a certainty, it…well, it changed my whole perspective. My outlook on everything. Problems at work or the little nagging complaints that stick with you…in a flash, none of it mattered. All I wanted was to come home and be with my family.

"So today, this _day_ , is to remind me of just how important it is to cherish the ones in our lives. And I'm happy to share in this with all of my friends…and some of their friends, too, it seems. I don't recall sending out that many invitations…."

Judy was awestruck. Mr. Otterton, unassuming Mr. Otterton, had completely floored her. He stood tall in the entryway, beaming with a joy that must have been fastidiously collected every day this past year, only to burst forth on this one wonderful night in a celebration with friends and family. A pang of nostalgia for Bunnyburrow manifested for a moment within Judy, but she quickly cleared it out and joined Mr. Otterton in his revelry.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, sir."

"And thank you for sharing this night with me, Judy. Now, what say we dig into this meal, yes?"

* * *

Seven massive glasses of carrot purée later, Judy and Mr. Otterton were really starting to enjoy the party. It was a littler waterier than she had expected, but even so, there was something else about the way the purée was blended, something special about this concoction. And whatever it was, it left Judy absolutely giddy. She was crying with laughter at Mr. Otterton's surprisingly accurate impressions of TV stars and politicians. Inexplicably, he was able to copy exactly the mannerisms of Gazelle. As he sashayed around the empty tiled kitchen, where nothing else exciting was occurring, Judy poured herself another tall glass and tapped out a beat for her host.

Mr. Otterton's antics proved refreshing, though terribly tiring. He was breathing heavily as he scooted up a stool to the granite-covered kitchen island, where Judy sat nursing her freshly filled glass.

"Where is Mrs. Otterton, sir?"

"Oh, she's in that mess somewhere. She's much better at the entertainment bit than I am."

"I don't know, sir. You have some pretty good moves!"

He guffawed while dragging the half-devoured soufflé closer to the edge of the island. Even though the kitchen was devoid of other guests, it still felt a little cramped to Judy. She noted internally that such a judgment coming from someone who lived in an apartment barely big enough to fit a bed may not be the most accurately developed.

"Judy," Mr. Otterton spoke with a mouthful of soufflé, "may I ask you a more personal question?"

"Sure, sir."

He fidgeted in his stool, the discomfort plain to the expert eye of a ZPD officer. "I don't want to be offensive with this. But, for my own curiosity…have you been able to… _put to use_ what happened a year ago?"

Judy's brow furrowed in puzzlement while she took a big swig of her carrot purée. "What do you mean?"

"Well I… you know, this house here is a good example. There was never going to be a way I could've afforded it with what I had been earning before I was taken. Afterward, with the interviews and a really, eh, _lucrative_ book deal, I paid _cash_ for this place. A place where I can raise my family properly."

Myriad offers had fallen into Judy's lap, all of which she had eschewed with boilerplate language. _Thank you for your interest. My work in the Night Howler Incident was simply part of fulfilling my civic duty as an officer of the Zootopia Police Department. I have had the great distinction of serving my community, and…._

"I hope I'm not being too intrusive, Judy, I'm just…I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry. Maybe it's this purée…" he trailed off as he drained the dredges of his own clear plastic cup — he had bestowed upon Judy the singular haute chalice from the kitchen cupboard.

"No, you're fine, sir. I guess…I guess I never really liked the spotlight. I only wanted to do what was right."

His smile upturned the corners of his mouth (now soufflé free). Barely noticeable dimples formed in his cheeks. "I'm so glad to hear that, Judy. I think many of this city's citizens would have…not necessarily _exploited_ , but probably taken some significant advantage of the attention that came with this case. And I think… you not doing that, maybe that's why so much of Zootopia likes you."

That sentiment felt pervasive wherever Judy went. At first, she had feared it was a bout of narcissism: thinking everyone's eyes always watched her or studied her from afar. It turned out she had been right. Eventually, the gawkers all summoned the courage to converse, and the unrelenting waves of compliments and congratulations began. The passage of time perhaps eroded her mystique, the aura of the great guardian of Zootopia transforming into something more relatable...something likable.

"Okay then, sir. If everyone _likes_ me…" she paused for another drink, "…what should I do with my _fame_?" She threw back her head in a faux hair tousle and posed for a nonexistent camera. This made carrot purée shoot from Mr. Otterton's nose.

Judy gasped, but it was only a prelude to a modest chuckle. " _Ack_! Oh my, I wasn't ready for that!" His cheeriness did not depart as he dabbed at the orange dribbled down his sweater (though the festive bow tie remained remarkably immaculate). "But, in all seriousness, Judy," he started again once he regained his composure, "I think there's something you could do that could help a lot of us here in Zootopia."

Interest unquestionably piqued, she leaned in, her carrot-filled chalice firmly ensnared in her grip. "And what's that?"

Mr. Otterton had set aside his beverage — likely the ornate scent profile of the carrots, spices, and other additives was now implanted in his nostrils — and he adopted a certain air. It wasn't pedantic...Judy felt it was more instructional or even probing. "Do you follow politics, Judy?"

 _No_. "Occasionally."

"Then you are likely aware that an election cycle is fast approaching?"

Coincidentally, Judy had been informed that was the case through one of Bogo's all-team meetings. It had been the one before the meeting she most recently skipped, in fact. The chief had wanted teams on standby for what he believed was to be a contentious election and to plan ahead for riot control, even though the campaign season had still been a relatively long way off. _Probably Bogo being overcautious_ , Judy thought, but she had perked up in her seat as her little team had been assigned their various (and droll) duties. She nodded, which was much to Mr. Otterton's delight.

"Splendid! Well, you know that Former Mayor Lionheart has been imprisoned ever since he… _mishandled_ the Night Howler business."

Judy detected the inkling of loathing in Mr. Otterton's tone. She knew he was not a spiteful man, but given the hardships he underwent during that time, she perfectly understood the source of his tone's darker undercurrent.

"And after he left," he soldered on while Judy almost finished her glass, "he was stripped of his authority. And with Bellwether out, the line of succession was pretty well busted. So somebody somewhere decided there should be appointed an emergency manager to run the show. A wolf by the name of Lobos got the job, and he and his staff have been in there for a little while now. But Lobos, he's a crony, Judy, a rusty cog of an old system. Stale, unimaginative, he's left everything stagnant. _Nothing_ really changed once Lionheart got the boot."

Judy pulled off some mental backflips as she tried to reconcile her image of Mr. Otterton the family man with Mr. Otterton the astute politico. As such, she missed the nuances of his discussion and made the wise decision to keep mum at this point.

"So we need a refresh," Otterton was happy to fill the gap. "Someone new, who citizens _trust_ to look out for them. One of their own, not some appointee made by…well, who knows who."

The sinking feeling from the car struck again with a vengeance. She gulped down the rest of her carrot purée, hoping it would shove out that stone sitting in her gut. It didn't. "Do…do you want to run against this Lobos guy?" She knew the answer, but she hoped she was wrong.

She wasn't. "Oh no! No, my place is here, with my family. I'm…not made for that, I don't think." The small pause extended for an eternity. Judy's paws buzzed as her mind raced to answer what was coming next. "But _you_ , Judy. You could do it."

She decided to play coy. Perhaps she could lead Mr. Otterton to talk himself out of it. "Do what, sir?"

Even after downing so much carrot purée, Mr. Otterton retained enough of his wits not to fall into such an obviously laid trap. "Think about it. Everyone in this city _adores_ you. You're honest, true to your word. You care about us, all of us. You have a real civic mind and a kind heart, Judy. You would be _perfect_."

She abruptly found herself stuck in a mental sludge, brought on by the glasses she had emptied. Arguments formed languidly and then broke apart under her detective mind's scrutiny. "But I've only lived here a year, sir. There's no way I can understand the city's needs."

It was a weak jab, and Otterton easily countered. "So what? You've been in the _streets_. You've gotten to know the real folks here. You've made Zootopia your home. We all see that and _respect_ it."

"But I'm…I'm not a politician, sir! I'm a police officer."

"And maybe that's precisely what we need, Judy. Someone like you who is far removed from that old machine. You could shed a light on so many of the real issues that plague our city — you've seen them, you know them. You could make a real difference."

Mr. Otterton, unassuming Mr. Otterton, was turning out to be an impressively eloquent speaker. Conceivably, Judy could have missed that before: too focused on the Night Howler craze, most likely. Judy considered how much thought and planning Otterton had given to this notion. She recognized she was too deep into the purée to successfully fight against his obviously well-formulated idea.

Retreat became the clearest option. "Okay sir, I'll think about it, alright?"

His voice softened a tad, edging on conciliatory. "I know, it's a lot to drop on you, right in my kitchen. You came here for a good time, and I'm boring you with all this…." Then, he pressed with a final surge. "But, I just want you to know that I'm not the only one who thinks this. There are a great number of us, Judy, we who are grateful for what you've done. You'd find a lot of support."

Stunned into silence, Judy leaned onto the cold and soothing granite countertop on the kitchen island. She wanted to lay her head down and let these fanciful notions spurred by copious amounts of purée float past, out and up to the clouds where they belonged. Instead, she giggled.

"Ah, good, I had thought I'd scared away your laughter. I had a few more impressions that could've helped but…oh _no_ , this stain is going to set in!" Mr. Otterton picked at the drying mess splashed across his sweater. "I suppose I should go find the missus."

"And I should find Nick." A solid plan of action developed, and Judy jumped down from the stool only to land on wobbly feet. _Cut back on the purée next time_ , her mind admonished while her paw sought a stable hold.

"Here, let me help…" Mr. Otterton fussed with his sweater while he dismounted. He made a crook in his forelimb and extended it to Judy, who gratefully accepted.

"Thank you, Mr. Otterton."

"You're most welcome. And next time, Emmitt is fine."

With steadier feet, they both walked past the island, past the omnipresent scent of carrot, and past the ideas tossed out between orange-tinted glasses.

* * *

"Nick!"

She nearly bowled over a gaggle of partygoers when she saw her partner. Poor Mr. Otterton was dragged along behind, but he managed to muster sufficient strength to hold tightly.

With a loud thump, Judy planted her feet a couple dozen inches from Nick's. "Hey!" she practically shouted.

"Hey there, Hopps. Looks like you've been having a little fun."

She sloppily nodded for several unbroken seconds, which brought forth Nick's grin. "Time to go home, Hopps?"

"Yes!" As luck would have it, the commotion had drawn in Mrs. Otterton, who looked stunning in her emerald evening attire, a far cry from the bawling woman Judy had so serendipitously met long ago. As Judy slipped from her host's arm, a newly freed Mr. Otterton could pull in his wife for a warm embrace before showing off his stained sweater with a weird pride. The couple talked among themselves as Nick donned the mantle of responsibility and stabilized Judy with a free paw.

"Officer Hopps, thank you for stopping by!" Mrs. Otterton effused. "I wanted the kids to see you, too, but we sent them to a relative for the evening. We figured they'd be bored silly with all these grown-ups!"

Judy and Nick shared a smile, but neither had anything clever to offer. To say the least, Judy was shocked that Nick was without a witty retort. Maybe Nick had been ready to conclude his evening for some time, only staying behind at her behest. Her nerves flared up again.

Mrs. Otterton noticed the unusual awkwardness, too, and pivoted like a skilled socialite. "Well, either way, I'm so glad you and Officer Wilde could make it."

"Happy to be here, ma'am!" Judy started swaying gently. She caught the taps of Nick's paw as it tried to center itself. "You have a lovely home and family!"

"Yes you do, she's right about that!" Nick's paw, now solidly placed on the square of her back, was guiding her body toward the front door. "But duty will call soon, and it's about time we turn in. Gotta keep the city safe!"

Mr. Otterton's bespectacled eyes lit up as he caught on. "Of course! Thank you both. We hope to see you again soon!"

Nick smiled and then, with a curt shove, hastened their departure. As they stepped over the threshold, Judy noticed how hot the house had been. Chilly breezes blew through the night sky, which had sent many outdoor partiers scrambling for shelter. She rued her decision of a sleeveless dress and began shivering on the short walk to the car.

They stopped briefly, and then something heavy ran along her neck. She looked down to the black lapels of Nick's jacket draped over her shoulders. Her shivers subsided, and Nick deftly maneuvered her through the lawn and down the street, right up to the side of their car.

Once Nick had situated her in the cabin, Judy rested her head against the cool tempered glass of the passenger window. The Otterton house picked up and moved away, disappeared as the engine rumbled. The streetlights appeared again overhead as halogen stars to lead her home.

Her nose twitched. She eyed her driver. "Hey, Nick…how much of that buffet did you stuff into your pants pocket?"

The knowing grin was plastered on his face. "A third of the party platter. It's pretty good. Want some?"

"No! You keep your _pocket snacks_. That's…that's all you."

"Your loss," Nick opined as he fished out something that sounded tasty when he crunched into it. "So, you and Otterton," Nick managed between loud bites, "what were you doing in there? You two were gone for a while."

Judy laughed. Though there was no reason for it in this instance, Nick being protective brought her a special kind of joy. "Just chatting."

"C'mon, Hopps. What were you up to?"

She scoffed at needing to rebuff Nick's inquisitiveness, her own curious nature apparently rubbing off on him. He could be pushy, doubtlessly so, but prying into things was not as useful of a skill for someone who made his living on the street. _Much more like a detective._

"Mhm… y'know, when did you stop calling me _Carrots_?"

"I can if you want me to, Carrots. Doesn't bother me."

She hummed a few bars of nothing in particular. The folds of the dress swished as she dallied. "Hmm…no, I like Hopps. You say it in a funny way. Hopps. _Hopps_ …too much emphasis on the 'p' sound, Nick."

He sounded more strained than normal. "I'll take that under advisement, Hopps." For a couple moments, Judy pursed her lips, wondering if her giddiness bothered her partner. It was maddening for him, perhaps, this reversal of roles: her now carefree and him the worrywart. A new streetlight shone brilliantly through the crystal windowpane, though, and she was smiling again. Nick, however, was not through. "Now, you and Otterton?"

"Oh yeah! He… had this …." She broke out into spontaneous giggling. It really was a funny proposition, now that she had left behind the heady kitchen air. "Okay, so…he thinks I should run."

The pause was so long that Judy had enough time to be distracted by every button on the dashboard before Nick said, "Run?"

"For _mayor_ , Nick! Otterton wanted me to run for mayor — can you even _believe_ that!"

She had planned for a laugh, or a huff of disbelief, or even a gentle rebuke. Instead, Nick met the insane development with ponderous silence.

Another turn of the wheel passed, and Nick said nothing. Though her mind was addled after Otterton's bacchanal, she could rather effortlessly determine why his quietness persisted. "Not you _too_!" Judy could barely restrain herself. Otterton formulating this crazy scheme was one thing, but _Nick_ …there was no way he could be swayed so easily.

"Why not, Hopps? You'd be good at it."

"No, I'm _good_ at being a cop!" She did not mean to pout. She actually appreciated Otterton's assessment and accompanying vote of confidence. But, whether due to the long and tedious week in the office or the pitcher of purée she had polished off this evening, revisiting the whole proposition in the car ride home brought forth an unpleasant and unwanted scowl.

"Yes, you are. And you'd also make a great mayor."

"But I — no, I just…" she spluttered in the face of explaining herself again so soon. The carrot concoction had taken full effect: had her mind been slowed earlier, now it was practically at a standstill. She was forced to repeat her argument. "I'm not a politician, Nick."

Nick cranked the wheel to slide through a sharp left turn. They were nearly home, as far as she could tell. "Well, anyone can be anything, right?"

As the car straightened, Judy's mouth fell open. "Oh, you must _stop_! That's not…applicable here."

"And why's that? Just taking that to its logical conclusion. If you can be anything, why not be the mayor?" He fed the engine with more fuel, and the car jerked as it revved. "Does have a certain ring to it, yeah? _The Honorable Judy Hopps, Mayor of Zootopia._ That'd go to your head pretty fast."

Judy would have huffed, but she found it difficult to feign dislike for the title. With that little extra pressure that Nick added to the 'p' in Hopps, it did gain a certain entrancing quality. Of course, this all may simply have been Nick being Nick, and her mind had already practically surrendered for the evening. "It's nice."

"Oh, _just_ nice? C'mon, Hopps, you know it's fantastic."

She couldn't suppress the giggle in time. Nick seemed to delight in this fact. "Fine, it's _really_ nice, okay?"

He laughed as the car pulled up to the curb. Parking lights splashed onto the sidewalk. He made a move to open the door and step around the car, but Judy beat him to it.

"Thanks, Nick. I'm glad we were able to go." Before disembarking, she shimmied her shoulders in an attempt to shrug off Nick's jacket. In cramped quarters, it became a surprisingly challenging exercise.

She had almost gotten out of one sleeve when he piped up with, "Keep it. It's cold outside."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be fine. I'm better insulated." He picked at a stray strand of fur that had surreptitiously snuck out of the cuff of his oxford shirt. His devilish grin shone in the backsplash of headlights illuminating the car bumper ahead. His canine teeth gleamed in a striking manner, not scary or feral, but alluring, in a way. Perhaps it was the smile altogether that accentuated their look: the synergy of the lift in his cheekbones, the neat pearly rows, the light gathering at pointed cuspid tips. She returned the smile, heartfelt but only half as endearing, she felt.

She replaced the jacket on her shoulder, which was a much simpler task. Her feet had been shaky in the air, but once they connected with the concrete, she was stable. "Well…good night, Nick."

Parking lights were doused as he shifted the car into drive. "Good night, _Mayor_ Hopps."

"You'd best stop it now!" she shouted as she shut the car door with a solid clunk, trapping his laugh in there with him.

As the car pulled away, Judy waited outside. She just wanted a few moments before she headed back to her tiny slice of solitude in the high-rise. The chilly breeze brushed against her cheek, and she closed her eyes.

" _The Honorable Judy Hopps, Mayor of Zootopia_." _A nice ring to it, indeed_.

#

* * *

 _Disclaimer_ _: Zootopia is not mine. But enjoy the story anyway._

 _Updated: 2/21/17_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Recently, I haven't been able to spend as much time as I'd like on writing my fics, including this one. So, I've decided to try out a different way of posting the chapters. The updates will be more regular but will consist of smaller parts. Hopefully, this should help narrow the gap between postings. Thank you for reading, and please feel free to let me know what you think of the story so far!**

 **Best ~ Euphonemes**

* * *

 _Run_

The aviators, which had been folded up and stowed in a secondhand jacket's pocket, cast a blue-tinted shadow over the bustling street outside ZPD Headquarters. Yet, the light from the morning sun shone strongly enough that beams still pierced the lenses and worsened her pounding migraine. She stood still, letting it all pass by, trapped in a dyspeptic state as the front doors of her office beckoned to begin the day anew.

She had tossed and turned in her bed as the vestiges of the purée dissipated in the warm unconditioned atmosphere of her tiny apartment. One in the morning had passed to two, then three, and soon the sun had peeked above the horizon; golden rays landed squarely on her bleary eyes. Carrot purée, it seemed, did not settle well with Judy.

Or perhaps, she wondered, the purée made up only a portion of her problem. As she sat on the curb, biding time until her partner arrived, Emmitt's words fluttered delicately around the sharp pains in her head. It was still ludicrous, even after a bad night's sleep, but, between her aching temples, the tiniest of thoughts formed. _What if Emmitt is right?_

The blatting horn of a passing car — agony incarnate — awoke her from her silly daydream. She leaned back and felt the city. The screeching of tires, the chattering of assorted mammals, the flashing neon signs, the mingling scents of food carts and sweat and oil: it all overwhelmed Judy. She had not waited long enough for Nick, of that she was sure. Yet, the feel of the city proved too strong. Judy pushed herself off the curb and plodded inside, all the while massaging her sensitive head.

The bustle inside was much more familiar and a little comforting. The chilled office air soothed Judy, and as she walked through the lobby, her head lightened and her pain subsided. Her path took her by the ominous front desk overlooking the front entrance of Headquarters; it was a parapet manned by a much-less-ominous officer. The rotund cheetah who practically resided there swiveled in his chair and gave Judy a wild wave. "Hey, Judy! How are you this morning!" His voice, usually a pleasant if excitable sound, was grating today. His energetic shouts tore through her skull.

Pain swelled again and, with the aviators still on her face, she decided a curt wave would have to do. "Clawhauser."

She pivoted, unspeakably eager to escape the lobby guard on this roughest of mornings. But no sooner did she turn for the staircase than did a fog of crumbs from a hundred little snacks burst into the chilled air. A nearly circular shadow cast itself over Judy, who nearly had to clamp her mouth with her hand to stop the sigh. "Hang on, Judy, I'll walk you to your desk! Just found out something you're gonna wanna hear!"

 _The usual Clawhauser_. For him, it seemed every day presented an opportunity for show-and-tell. He would even put on a juvenile grin and bounce like a kit, threating to explode if he couldn't share the latest mobile app or trivium pulled from late-night television. Judy would oftentimes pay enough attention to satiate Clawhauser. But today, Judy desperately craved the cold steel of her desk, with the siren song of a mid-morning nap ringing loud and clear.

He rattled on as they ascended and entered the aisles cut between identical desks. She counted the rows, anything to distract herself from the migraine's fury. Clawhauser's prattle was the wrong kind of distraction. "So I was digging around on the app store and found this cool recording bit! It's like your carrot pen but better, cuz it—"

"Clawhauser. Please." She was icy like the steel of her desk. She liked Clawhauser. His friendliness was typically appreciated, but just not today. She wished she could have formed the right words to let him down gently, but the sheer agony of her headache and the exhaustion of a sleepless night all culminated in two little words spoken with deliberate purpose to a good friend.

Maybe he understood — though if he did, he still could not hide his wounds. With downcast eyes, he lazily thumbed the screen of the phone he had pulled from his pocket mid-conversation. "…I was just gonna say it…alters your voice, too." A bright spark ignited once again. "Hey! You wanna demo? I…." Judy's unmoved aviators made her response clear. "Eh, no, you don't want a demo, do you…okay, I'll just, um, go back to my desk, and…."

"Ah, look what the cat dragged in…how are ya this fine morning, Clawhauser?"

Never had Judy let Nick beat her to the office. Never. She had to vigorously rub her bleary eyes to be certain. But there, looking almost prim and proper in the chair, was an engaged and hard-at-work Nick bedecked in a freshly pressed uniform.

"Oh, hey Nick, I'm…alright. Just brought your partner, looks like it's been a rough morning for her, so I'm just gonna…go…."

Judy shouted after her dejected friend as he lumbered back toward the staircase. "Wait, Clawhauser, I—wait! _Gah!_ "

"Aw, did you break Clawhauser? For shame, Hopps."

Judy wheeled around as Nick's comment floated past, and she opened up a frightful glare. When Nick stood passively for several heartbeats, though, it dawned on her that she was only glaring into the lenses of her aviators. As consolation, she managed an impotent grumble while she plodded toward the desk and toward Nick, who hopped out of the chair upon her arrival.

As she passed by, he hummed. "Y'know, those shades of yours look awfully familiar…."

"Oh…yeah, sorry, you can, here— _ah_." As the aviators left their perch atop her little nose, she squinted her large and shimmering eyes to dam the torrent of sunlight from the skylights above. She withstood the onslaught for a solid four seconds before she hurriedly shoved the sunglasses back onto her face.

Nick seemed to think it was funny. "That bad? No more carrot juice for you, Carrots." Before Judy could interject, Nick continued with a more sincere smile. "Tell ya what then. Hang on to 'em for now, but _don't_ break 'em. They're my favorite pair."

The urge to correct her partner momentarily suppressed her gratitude. "First of all, it was _purée_ , Nick…and thanks."

"Sure — we've all been there before." His forelimbs guided her into the chair, which sighed comfortingly as she sunk into its pillowy embrace. Her pain was immediately subdued, and her head wilted onto the cool steel of her desk. The sounds of the precinct dissolved into a blissful silence; even Nick refrained from his usual noisemaking. Quietness settled in, and she let it soothe her tired self.

She earned about a minute of silence before the phone rang. The desk line — she had always wondered why they still had this antiquated landline phone that would shake violently as it rang — bleated in familiar tones. Nick was quicker on the draw, which was a fight she was happy to concede.

"Yeah, boss?" Only one other officer in this precinct ever called that line. "Shoplifter? Yep, we're on it!"

A case — right now, a real case. Judy groaned audibly, not afraid to hide her displeasure at this new task. Yet, excitement fizzled within her gut. It was more than jaywalking or illegally parked cars. There could even be a chase, though the thought of running in her current state turned her stomach.

"C'mon partner, hop to it!" Judy was on her feet, dragged along by Nick's sure grip. She felt the tiniest of tremors vibrating through his paw; he shared the same anticipation that she had. They left Headquarters and reentered the bath of sunlight. Nick expertly tracked down their cruiser and threw open the doors. As he shoved her into the passenger seat, he let out a thought that must have been bothering him for some time this morning. "And hey — where's my jacket?"

Judy's sluggish reply caught in her throat as Nick slammed the accelerator.

* * *

The store alarm warbled over the blaring siren and squealing tires of their police cruiser as they pulled up. It was an awful collection of sounds, really. An older bell, clanking as a little hammer struck its interior, was situated above the shop door, which had been kicked out and now hung on the bottommost hinge. Judy covered her ears and groaned, stumbling a bit as she and her partner ran to the source of this tremendous commotion.

Standing in the door jamb, the shop owner — a middle-aged marmot whose fur bristled with fury and chubby belly shook with rage — screamed an octave higher than his store's blasted alarm. "Help! Help! Officers! He's getting away!" During his shouts, the marmot shoved a finger toward the street corner. Through the blue tint of her borrowed aviators, Judy nabbed the sight of a furry heel as it rounded the brick building at the end of the block.

Nick must have spotted it, too. "We got a runner!"

 _Finally!_ The rush of excitement was followed by a touch of guilt. She should not have been so thrilled at the commission of a crime, but paperwork had taken such a heavy toll. From her office chair, she had pined for even a mere glimpse of the death-defying terror she and Nick had faced before.

"Mine!" Judy heard herself shout as her migraine evaporated, and the pain gave way to the pressure on her feet as they pounded the pavement.

"Careful, Hop—" Nick's cry couldn't cut the corner as smoothly as she did. Twenty steps ahead ran a shaggy ochre lynx; the tufts of charcoal fur atop its ears were blown back by its own slipstream. Padded paws made more noise on the concrete than Judy would have expected — potentially the hallmark of a hidden tool stashed between its toes…or perhaps it was a weapon.

Alarm fueled her commanding tone. "Stop! Police!"

She was ineffective, it seemed, as the feline raced on. Bemused bystanders were shoved and pushed out of the way by this lynx's outstretched paw. Judy squinted as she accelerated, and she noticed the suspect was cradling something. This thing was roundish, right about the size of a newborn rabbit.

Judy sped up as she jumped over the fallen citizens. The lynx looked young, perhaps only having shed its fur a few times. It was certainly fast — a practiced thief, possibly. But, Judy's powerful legs would quickly outpace her quarry on the open stretch of sidewalk. She kept waiting for the lynx to slip through an alleyway, or duck into some hidey-hole, or even change direction and go down another street.

Yet, the lynx seemed determined to reach the end of this particular road. Ten blocks passed, then fifteen; the gap narrowed inch by inch. Pedestrians had gotten wise and were sidestepping the pursuit, though Judy's continued shouts to "Move!" and "Make a hole!" doubtlessly helped. The duo almost reached twenty city blocks by the time she got a paw on the lynx's flapping gingham shirttails.

The square of fabric she nabbed was enough to break the lynx's stride. They collided and went to the ground hard. Judy shut her eyes — only for few blinks — when the concrete met her nose. She was a tough bunny, but even she admitted to herself that it stung. She opened her eyes to stare at the ground. Surprisingly, she found the blue filter had dissolved.

A forelimb's length away lay the shattered remains of the aviators. Slivers of blue were scattered across the slate gray sidewalk. She growled as she rose and inspected the bent wire frames with a quivering foot. Nick would not be pleased.

"No…no, so close…so…." The lynx spoke. He was a youthful countertenor, though his words dragged along with his body as he pulled himself forward, still cradling whatever he had stolen. His paw clawed at the sidewalk, trying its best to reach the next slab; Judy did not let him get there.

She hadn't meant to be so rough, but the thrill of the chase flowed through her veins. The young boy squealed as she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him to his feet. The fall had blackened his eye, and the bruise was already taking shape. He whimpered a bit as she let loose her glare. Instinctively, his forelimb closed around the package.

"What is that, young man?" Demanding, authoritative: it was just like they taught in the academy. Mild protests and squirming from the lynx only tightened her grip and steeled her glare. One resigned sigh later, he let go.

The fresh-baked loaf of bread landed with a dull thud.

"Wha…." Judy still clenched the nape of his neck, but her eyes fell with the bread. The loaf split upon landing. Crumbs tumbled unchecked back down the street.

"I…I just wanted to feed Mom…." It could have been a lie. But, her ears clearly picked up the sounds of his stomach rumbling through the tattered gingham shirt, with threads hanging over raggedy cargo pants. He was a hungry young man, no doubt. Yet… _why this street?_

Judy relinquished her grip on the lynx's neck, but she kept a paw firmly planted on his shoulder as she scanned the buildings above and around her. Gone were the shiny storefronts and polished facades where the chase had begun, replaced by crumbling buildings with spider-web-cracked windows. Shouts rang out from those remnants of windows; they were angry and tired shouts. The sun felt hotter here, and her uniform was suddenly stifling.

She returned her attention to the lynx. "What's your name?"

She got a sniffle out of him.

 _A new tactic might help loosen his tongue_ , she thought. "Mine's Judy." She tapped her chest with her free paw.

"…Martin." It was a shy and shaky voice.

"Okay, Martin. There's no need to be scared." She wore a smile that wavered as she breathed deeply — it was taking a while to recover from her exceptionally long run. "Now, can you tell me where your house is?"

Martin gulped. Judy felt his shoulder roll as he pointed toward the building at the end of the block. "So close…."

With the heat of the chase dissipating, Judy slowly recalled Martin's heavier-than-expected footfalls. She peeked down toward his hind limbs and caught the glint of a thin metallic object; his fall had jostled it out from between his clenched toes. Its copper edge was ragged, more so than Martin's clothing, but there was a deliberate pattern to it. It was fit for a lock, like a deadbolt on a house's front door.

The tarnished copper key lying next to the split loaf of bread finally convinced Judy to withdraw her paw. Martin teetered on unsure feet, eyes wet with barely-dammed tears. He sniffled a few more times while Judy's mind dove into a quagmire. A criminal caught in the act of shoplifting stood before her. A hungry kid wanting to feed his family stood before her. She examined the bread. The golden crust was busted, exposing the soft innards to the dingy downtown air.

She stepped forward and lowered her voice, barely above a whisper. "Take it and go. And _don't_ let me catch you doing this again, you hear me?"

His eyes started streaming as he nodded. Sniffling became louder and more pronounced as he scooped up the loaf and trundled awkwardly down the sidewalk, pausing every few steps to look back at Judy. She shooed him along with an impatient paw. The kid had reached his stoop when she heard the car peeling up beside her.

"Huh, ya let 'em go. Smart money would've been on you arresting him," Nick thoughtfully opined as he hopped out of the parked police cruiser.

Judy smirked at the comment, but she otherwise kept silent. Instead, she listened to the street. She heard the anger and the exhaustion that lingered between buildings. A despondency polluted the very air that she inhaled deeply, and it only exhausted her as well.

"C'mon, Nick, let's go back and talk to that shop owner."

"No need. Took care of that for ya. Nice man, once you get past the screeching."

Judy blinked in actual surprise. "How did you know that—"

"That it was a kid? Yeah, it didn't look like a professional job…not that I would know." He gave a beguiling smirk that tried, laughably so, to hide his dodge. "So, I took the liberty of patching things up with the shop owner; we're good to go on that end. I'll leave the paperwork to you, though…fair trade, I think."

Her forelimb immediately cramped when "paperwork" left Nick's mouth. She imagined the stacks of forms and certainly did not relish the thought. In an effort to buy some time from the cold steel of her desk and the incessant scribblings to fill every box on every form, she floated an idea. "Hey, so, since we're out on the town already...how about we grab a snack or something?"

"And take a break from our _work_? Oh, you know me too well, Hopps."

There was a spring in her step as she headed back toward their car. "Wonderful! I know this little place with a _great_ —"A crunch sounded underfoot. She pulled away to find the twisted corpse of blue-tinted aviators. Judy gently lifted them from the ground. With her head lowered, she groveled. "Nick, I…I broke them, I'm so sorry."

"Broke what?" asked Nick as he slid across the hood of the car and leaped back into the driver's seat.

She languidly poured herself into the passenger seat and shut the door. Her paws extended, and the pallbearer offered the mangled remains to her partner. "Your favorite pair…."

She deposited the frames into Nick's lap, then waited for what was to come next. She braced for whatever bitter invectives Nick would conjure to express his fury; she thought that they would be well-deserved ones. She had been entrusted with something precious, and Judy had shattered that trust when she had shattered those blue lenses.

Instead, Judy received, "Hmm? Oh, _those_. Yeah, I have three more just like 'em sitting on my nightstand."

Judy's invectives didn't make it over the roar of the engine.

* * *

 _More to come._

 _Updated: 2/24/17_


	3. Chapter 2: Part II

_A/N: If you're confused when you begin reading this, please go to the previous chapter. Decided to break out the Parts into their own chapters, and I'm starting with this one. Thanks, and enjoy! - Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

"To start? How about coffee for the both of us?"

The aproned coati craned her neck back toward the kitchen and belted out Nick's order. The four or five other patrons barely noticed, their various snouts and noses buried in their own business. The coati — Karen, Judy thought her name was — headed to her next table, her feet clicking on chintzy checkered tile.

Judy peeled her back off of the vinyl-coated booth seat and flipped open the laminated menu. Adrenaline from her encounter with Martin had finally passed, leaving behind a weary officer with an imminent headache. She and Nick had been directed to the seat with the self-proclaimed best view of the city — if it could be called a view. Nick and Judy were treated to the underbellies of the big gleaming towers, the pieces typically stashed out of sight for the vast majority of Zootopia's citizens. Judy rather liked it.

Though, by necessity, such a view required windows. In this case, the long and wide windows along the front of the rather secluded diner allowed a great amount of sunlight to bathe Judy and Nick where they sat, which was not helpful in her efforts to stave off the headache.

Nick wasn't much help, either. "Sheesh, is it bright in here. You should've picked a place with fewer windows. I can barely read this menu, so much glare..."

She huffed as she perused the menu. A futile exercise, really, as she already knew exactly what she wanted. Yet, the act of searching created a significant distraction from the resurgent pain...and from the picture of the wide-eyed and starved lynx as he dropped his stolen loaf of bread. In between the items on the menu, Judy saw the scared kid standing steps from home in a terrifying town, his paws shaking as he sputtered out his name.

"Hey, _Judy!_ "

The shock of Nick's choice of moniker brought her back to the booth. "Wha…?" she inquired dazedly.

"Your turn to order, partner."

Judy looked up to discover Karen tapping her foot, delaying as patiently as a member of a harried wait staff could manage. Bashfully, Judy shuffled around her menu, humming as she pretended to consider some of the other options. She tapped a paw on the edge of the mug that Karen had placed directly in front of her. Coffee was Nick's idea; it was kind, but she wasn't in the mood for it. After an appropriately long amount of time, enough to elicit a strange clicking sound from their server and a noisy slurp from her partner, she ordered.

"Uh…carrot stew, please."

Karen grunted while scribbling on her check pad. Her face half-covered by the menu, Judy watched as Nick's eyes condensed into slivers of pure condescension. She knew what lay behind them, what churned in Nick's mind while Karen plucked the laminated curtain from Judy's hands and then pivoted back to screech the order at the kitchen.

Once Karen moved on to the next batch of customers two tables away, Nick began. "So that's why we're here?"

Judy immediately answered, though her thoughts sped past her words. "Yeah, they have the best…carrot stew."

Despite her hedonistic enjoyment of carrots the evening prior, Judy could not shake the urge to down some more. It was likely the consequence of being raised alongside the vegetable, watching little sprouts mature into the best specimens Bunnyburrow could offer, year after year. As she had grown, so had the carrots — well, a new group of them, but carrots all the same. For Judy, the orange tuber elicited a nostalgia that simultaneously set her stomach rumbling.

Nick, however, did not seem to share that sentiment. He let out a wry laugh. " _More_ carrots? Already? You _are_ a trooper, Carrots."

"You know I grew up around it, Nick!" Judy worked to explain a truth she had laid plain many times before. She knew that Nick wasn't serious, yet that same fuzzy nostalgia for Bunnyburrow's fallow fields and rows of planted seeds would harden into a shield to bash anyone who challenged her particular tastes. _A funny quirk_ , Judy thought, as Nick simply laughed louder.

The diner's patrons still did not take notice of the odd pair in the booth. Nick's laugh bounced off the cheap flooring and landed somewhere near the kitchen window, where one of their two plates now rested. Nick was suddenly quieter, more pensive, as he leaned over the table. "Y'know, you seem…I dunno, _jumpier_ than usual, partner. Little more tired, maybe. What's going on?"

Judy had no clue what Nick had selected for his entrée, but she knew right away that the dish in the kitchen window was meant for her. Steam was curling away from the dish of carrot stew seated atop a white saucer tanned by innumerable spilled meals. Far-off wisps of deliciousness held her in rapt and closed-eyed attention, and she was unable to answer Nick the first time he asked.

It took another few attempts. "Hey, partner, over here!" She most certainly was distracted, by a great many things, doubtlessly so. Yet, as her eyes opened and then dawdled over to Nick's, Judy suddenly grew apprehensive. She was fearful, it seemed, of what Nick would say should she choose to give voice to her concerns.

Eager to rid herself of the unpleasant feelings, she breathed deeply. Unexpectedly, the heady scent of carrot stew rushed to greet her. She looked down at the bowl that had almost magically appeared on the table, and she barely restrained her squeal. She gave a passing glance at Nick's choice: some motley collection of something or other that could in no honest fashion compete with the splendor of the stew now amassing on her dunked spoon.

She continued to ignore Nick's probes as she dutifully went to work on the stew. Every bite was better than the one before, irresistible flavors and spices coming together in this epicurean delight. The location may not have been scenic, and the atmosphere was surely lacking; yet, this stew served as her greatest reminder of home, a diamond in this very rough terrain.

"Oh, almost forgot…" Karen said while unceremoniously dropping a plate onto the center of the table. It landed somewhere out of frame for Judy, whose attention was focused solely upon the stew. It wasn't until the crumb rolled into her lap that she ceased her shoveling.

The spoon, now weighing several tons in her paw, clattered to the bottom of the almost-empty bowl as Judy slowly, painfully, dragged her eyes over to the center plate, upon which sat an unspoiled hemispherical loaf of bread with a crease running through the golden crust to allow sultry steam to escape the freshly baked loaf. A few crumbs had risen with the steam and were now scattered across the tabletop. Judy found herself frozen.

"It was the kid, wasn't it?"

"…huh?" That was the smartest sound Judy could make.

Nick plowed ahead, even as Judy remained transfixed on the yeasty morsels. "There always have been poor kids, Hopps. And there will always be poor kids. Ones that need to steal bread to survive. You can't worry about all of 'em."

A flash of anger, brighter and hotter than the sun streaming through the large windows, overtook the lavender in her eyes, which she then snapped to Nick. "Why not!" It was indignant, rash, unbecoming of an officer. Yet…it felt _right_ , proper in some indescribable sense. A tingling struck up underneath the strands of her gray fur.

Nick appeared unmoved as he continued digging into his glop. "Not our job, Hopps. We serve and protect everyone. We can't pick favorites."

"But then we just end up helping _no one!_ " Her furry fists slammed down on the tabletop. Ripples cascaded on the surface of what little stew remained. Patrons did angle their heads back or around slightly, enough to illustrate a passing interest in the happenings at the noisy table by the big windows.

The tingling had subsided, replaced by a hollowness centered in the pit of her stomach, a hole the carrot stew refused to fill. Martin's trembling rolled up her forelimb. His tears dampened her gray fur. He was a thief; he was a child. And he was alone with the angry shouts and dilapidated buildings.

"Partner, we've gotten a lot done together. Helped a lot of people. Maybe try not being so dismissive of our work?" He took another loud slurp from his mug, and the steam curled the tips of the fur around his lips, the same lips that hid the beginnings of his snarky smile.

Judy stopped it cold. "But our _work_ …everything with the Night Howler. All that we worked to change. It accomplished _nothing_! It didn't matter!"

"It mattered to the ones we helped." Nick was suddenly serious — an unpleasant look for him, or so Judy believed as she stirred the coffee she did not want. With so little left in the crock, her stew had chilled; it was still tasty, but nowhere near as scrumptious as when she began.

"I get it, Nick, I do…" Judy backtracked. She was glad to have been of assistance, to see the smiles and hear the sighs of relief whenever she could. Even the many dismayed rants of illegal parkers had failed to diminish the sincere thanks of someone in great need. "But we're just scratching the surface. You, me, Bogo, Clawhauser, _everyone_ , we're not _really_ changing anything."

"Did you expect us to be changing things?" Nick leaned back in the booth, forelimbs stretching out along the top of the backrest. "Ridding society of all its woes?"

Judy stumbled as she abruptly needed to give voice to the concerns that had dug the pit in her stomach. Nick squinted, perhaps to keep the bright sun from totally blinding him — or to express a smoldering inquisitiveness. "Well…" she stuttered, "I-I mean, after the Night Howler stuff, I thought…I figured…."

"What, you think what we did would have _changed_ everything overnight? Curing corruption and blight, clearing out the old for the bright and shiny tomorrow right around the corner? Even in Bunnyburrow, that wouldn't be true, so I know you know it." Nick rolled his shoulders, readying himself to deliver something educational...or something patronizing, Judy could never tell. He lowered the volume of his voice, and Judy's ears whipped forward to catch every drop of sound. "The whole thing, it's a tough system. I grew up in it, and I've told you the stories. Ever since I was little — younger than that lynx — I've seen what it does, how it works. The change that you're talking about… _changing the system_ …it's slow, if it ever comes at all to a neighborhood like that."

Judy actually tried to dig her heels into the cheap floor tiles. Instead, her short legs swung limply. "B-but we—"

"We are agents of that system, my dearly idealistic partner. We do as we are commanded. Serve and protect. Surface-level stuff, as you'd put it. Doesn't mean we don't care, Hopps. But there's only so much we can do from where we're sitting."

Judy sighed as the wind let out of her flagging sails. Her feet quit swinging. The carrot stew had thickened in the interim; her spoon was trapped in a jelly of unfinished delicacy. Her paws collapsed onto the table. A motionless Judy again felt the exhaustion of the city drain her energy, sap her strength. She surrendered to it, and her heavy head joined her hands on the tabletop. A loose crumb rolled into the short gray fur that lined the outer rim of her floppy ears.

She felt Nick calmly brush it aside. A tickling sensation made her ear twitch. "Although…" Nick posited with the tone he usually took when he had a hard sell of an idea for his partner. "Were we sitting from a different point of view…say, City Hall? Maybe it'd be different."

Judy probably should not have been so shocked to hear Nick say it. In fact a small part of her, one kept hushed by the pains and trials of the morning, had expected it. He had stayed mum during her languid crawl to her desk earlier today — a blessing, though she wouldn't say so to his face. Perhaps now, Nick was being nice. More likely, he was simply being opportunistic. Her barriers had weakened, and the chance had arisen. Nick would not be liable to let it go.

And yet.. _m_ _aybe Emmitt is right_. Thoughts buried beneath a morning migraine rapidly rose to the surface once more. The Otterton party materialized around her, the booth transforming into a stool, the tabletop into a counter replete with soufflé and purée, the clanking of diner patrons' utensils into the rumbling din of ebullient partygoers in another room. _There are a great number of us, Judy, we who are grateful for what you've done. You'd find a lot of support._

Head raised and mouth agape, Judy pondered, and then admitted she had nothing. "...Nick, I…."

He cracked a sly smile. "C'mon, I _know_ you've been thinking about it."

 _How perceptive_ , Judy surmised as she drained the entirety of her unwanted coffee cup, the (half-caff, which Nick had remembered when ordering) brown liquid having fallen to room temperature. It was tepid, with a few loose grounds bobbing on the surface...and it had been a move to buy time more than anything else. Nick's stare remained unbroken, even as the empty mug clattered back onto its saucer. "You've been waiting all morning to say something, haven't you Nick?" _An opportunist at heart; s_ _ome things never change_.

Sharp teeth glinted in the warm sunlight. They flashed as the sly smile spread across his face. He didn't need to say anything, as Judy knew already.

"Nick, being a mayor, it has to be hard work. Running a city this big? And having everyone mad at you all the time for something. I mean, I got a _taste_ of that during the Night Howler stuff, and that was…tough. I just, I don't think I'd be _ready_ for it."

Nick was quick with his response. "Okay, maybe you're not ready for it yet. But you still want to do it then. You _could_ do it, couldn't you?" Obviously, Nick had been thinking about this a great deal, much to Judy's chagrin. She hated the sense of being caught off-guard, unprepared for the eventuality of Nick raising this point again. She had tossed and turned the thought over during a long night but reached no conclusions of substance — certainly nowhere close to what Nick sounded ready to present.

"Look, partner," Nick went on, "not saying it'd be easy. We'd have…well, a _lot_ of work to do with you." She crinkled her nose, but Nick was unperturbed. "Make a face all you want, but you're right. You need some practice. Interviewing, speech-making, shaking hands and kissing babies. But that stuff, that's easy." He leaned in, casting his snout's shadow over the spilled bread and frozen stew. His shimmering green eyes, like verdant Bunnyburrow summers, were gentle yet resolute. "Now _I_ know you can do it. So the hard part, the _really_ hard part, is convincing _yourself_ you want to do this. That you _could_ do this…and I'm willing to bet you're nearly over that hump."

He settled back in the booth and took a long and loud drag from the coffee mug — Karen must have refreshed Nick's drink at some point. Judy studied her partner. The baking sun, filtered through a large window and the air of the city, set aflame the colors of his fur. He glowed in the belief of his cause. He sat tight-lipped now, his snout twitching with something unspoken, barely held back by a mind that was set purposefully to task. For a few moments, Judy watched in his green eyes the sway of the branches and leaves topping the vanguard trees that once encircled her Bunnyburrow home. She again sniffed at the clean wind blowing across fallow fields. The tender taste of fresh carrots dallied on her tongue. She enjoyed this spontaneous serenity…which was broken apart by Nick's hoarse cough.

"Sorry…it's just, Nick, I…."

"You'd be _great_ at it, partner. This city would be lucky to have you. And all of them out there, they know that, too. They're _waiting_ for you to take it."

Judy blushed; Nick's compliments were unexpected, though nonetheless appreciated. His words carried an air of certainty as he undoubtedly awaited her thoughts. His attitude was frustrating, but his words and thoughts were compelling. Passion ignited in her eyes like tiny flames as Nick stared at her, and then the window, and then whatever he was eating.

Almost absentmindedly, Nick prattled on. "And if you don't believe me, ask around! Telling ya, it's true. Hey, Karen…Karen! Come here please — got a question for ya!"

"…yeah, ask around…" Judy mumbled into her stew. Nick's opinion did matter to her, as did many others in her city. Karen made a fine example, though it was unlikely that their server would spare a passing thought or two for their table. Yet, she needed someone to challenge this view. She wanted someone to really push her and to tell her why she would be bad for it. _Ask around_. And the tiny flames flared.

She thought she heard the clicking of Karen's feet on the tile, but beyond that, Judy was gone. Engrossed in her plan, she put her phone to work. Emails and text messages flew by as she cashed in a favor here and there to get what she wanted. In a flash, she had obtained the right permissions and found an agreeable time for a very special meeting; it would be sooner than she would've preferred, but it would be a block of time all the same. Unfortunately, it meant that she would have to pass on the rest of the stew; hopefully, Nick wasn't too averse to covering her bill this time.

"Ok-thanks-Nick-gotta-go-bye!"

And Judy Hopps was a blur as she leaped from the booth and scurried out the door. She wanted to explain her plan; he would figure it out soon enough. The look of hers had probably given it away. And Nick's voice did warble somewhere behind her, but there was no time to worry about it.

She had a train to catch.

* * *

 _A/N: One more part to go, and that'll wrap up Chapter 2! Thank you to everyone who has read this story so far. Please feel free to post your feedback on the Reviews section, or PM them to me if you'd be more comfortable with that._

 _Updated: 1/2/17_


	4. Chapter 2: Part III

_Run_

"Please remove all loose articles of clothing, jewelry, weapons, and any other metallic objects. That includes the badge, Officer." A surly corrections officer — a flat-toned rhinoceros who showed infinitesimal interest in Judy — plunked down the plastic tub and scooted it through the narrow window that separated the cramped check-in booth from the prison's visitor waiting room. Judy did as she was instructed, removing her glinting golden ZPD badge with a mild reluctance that made her eyelid flutter. Second thoughts were mounting in her mind, future regrets already building from nothing.

As the rhinoceros took possession of the bin, Judy earnestly wondered if she should have heeded Nick's protests. As expected, he had figured out her plan. A little unexpectedly, he had chased her out of the diner and halfway down the street before his huffing and puffing fell away to the sounds of the city. The much better conditioned Judy made quick work of the remaining distance to the only train stop in Zootopia that would take her to the maximum-security facility in which she now stood. An anxious paw fiddled with the patch of her uniform discolored slightly by its usual golden adornment.

"The inmate is ready now. Robinson! Show the officer to the interview room."

The thick steel door next to the check-in booth swung away, pulled from its berth by a massive black jaguar whose bulging muscles shimmered under a cloak of jet black fur. Unintentionally, Judy gasped as the gatekeeper — Robinson, likely — beckoned to her with a paw that would've been too big for her deep bowl of carrot stew. Her first steps were slight and slow as she crossed the threshold, but she did regain a tiny bit of bounce while following Robinson down a starkly white cinder-block corridor.

Judy tried to be polite and asked Robinson a few small talk questions. His brooding silence confirmed that Robinson was not one for small talk. With a sigh, Judy resigned herself to ruminating on Nick's pleas as she had taken flight from the diner. _This won't help anything! It's crazy — don't bother with him! You're making a mistake! Hopps! Carrots! Judy! Get back here!_

 _Too late to listen now_ , Judy thought as Robison wheeled around on his thick legs and took hold of an iron door handle. "The inmate will be chained to the table," he said in a melodious and terrifying bass. "Take your seat on the opposite side of the inmate. You will have five minutes to conduct your business. Do not approach the inmate. Do not hand anything to the inmate. There will be two armed guards posted in the room. They will monitor your conversation. Any attempts to interact with the inmate outside of speaking will be dealt with summarily. Understood?"

A big gulp, and then Judy nodded.

The door swung open. Robinson's massive paw nearly shoved her inside.

"Ah, Hopps. How good of you to join me. Please, come in. Sit down."

Instantly, regret frothed. Judy would have happily leaped right back through the doorway had Robinson not sealed her in. The walls were the same starkly white cinder blocks as the corridor. The even white color was broken only by the two guards armed to the teeth and bedecked in black riot gear. They guarded a gray covering — the door to the prison itself. No windows were cut into the wall; only the buzzing fluorescent bulbs hanging overhead offered light, and it was a depressing light that shone with pretended brilliance when it deflected off the burnished steel table and two steel chairs.

One of those chairs was already occupied. Judy studied its occupant as she traversed the chilly floor. She remembered him as being taller, though perhaps his slouch in the chair robbed him of a few inches. Once-pristine fur was now matted, dirtied by the events of a life he probably did not expect to be leading. Judy recalled the court document and his claim that he would be released in "no time at all," once the whole mess was cleared up. That had not turned out to be the case.

Judy settled into her tough and unforgiving chair. She had been totally surprised he had accepted this meeting. Even though others surely had been to blame, it was Judy who most publicly wore the mantle of ouster. She had toppled a dynasty in a maneuver that the inmate would never forget.

"Mr. Lionheart. The pleasure is with me." She had held the _m_ sound for too long. His former title had been automatic, and it had risen and stuck in her throat. She had paused for a moment to correct the moniker. Lionheart had noticed.

He chuckled, airy and political yet weightier and more burdened than before. "Sometimes my cellmates call me _Mayor_. They think it gets under my skin, trying to rile me up. They're wrong, naturally."

Lionheart's laugh was not the only anemic thing about him. Judy squinted in the ugly light. The mats of fur, composed of thousands of gritty strands, sheened with an oily rainbow. His mane had diminished, frazzled and frayed, unkempt and unfit for the consummate politician. His tail swished lazily, haphazardly, between the legs of the steel chair. His eyes, though, they still burned with an unquenchable fire. Hot was his stare as Judy sat stoically — a mask for her fluttering heart.

"I will be honest, sir. I didn't think you'd accept my request to meet."

The fire flickered as he quickly blinked a few times. "These days, Hopps, I don't get many visitors. Once your title is taken away, and your accolades stripped, suddenly you're not worth much to anyone."

A strange feeling — guilt — leached into her gut. At their first meeting in City Hall, Judy had failed to hide the intimidation and the fear that the overpowering Lionheart could create. He had seemed so sure, so popular. Now, this pitiable creature, alone, slouched in his chair somehow brought forth an emotion that stung worse and lingered longer any burst of fear.

"Sir, what… _happened_ between us…when…."

"When you ruined my well thought-out plan to protect the citizens of Zootopia? When you cost me my career — my pride!" Hot was his breath as the iron chains clanked, the only restraint preventing glittering canines from tearing apart rabbit flesh. The guards by the door shifted noisily, intent on the inmate hearing their weapons clack. Lionheart growled barbarically, so unbecoming of a former mayor. After the guards advanced half a foot, Judy took a peek and wondered if the riot gear they wore were more of a navy blue. That blended better with the surrounding environment, for some reason.

But, she would not get a closer inspection of their gear. Lionheart returned to his seat, the chains sighing back toward the concrete floor. "…no, you were not the only one. Others would've had their chances. And _I_ certainly did myself no favors. I think time in this place has started to show me that."

To be sure, Judy was taken aback by the sudden meekness overtaking Lionheart. Yet, it was peaceful, in some small measure. "I really didn't mean to, it's just…."

"How it all happened, yes, I know." Golden paws rubbed shackled wrists. "But, I don't think you are here to commiserate on my past, Hopps, so let's leave it alone for now." Lionheart seemed to grow a mite taller, prouder. "I _am_ curious, though…what _does_ bring you to this fine establishment?"

Judy gulped as the old Lionheart peeked through the grimy husk. She had been prepared to deliver her purpose immediately, to subject her sudden mayoral desires to the hideous and critical light in this room. Yet, as she stared into the inmate's eyes, smoldering with a dormant conviction, she uncharacteristically found herself tongue-tied.

"I…uh…am here to, to find out more about our new mayor!" _No! C'mon Judy, stupid, very stupid._

She was certain Lionheart didn't buy it. He sniffed loudly, contemptuously. "Lobos? What about him?" He played along.

"Well, I…want to know more about him. Who is he, exactly? He just sprang up from nowhere, and I — I have to know. It's…important."

He cocked a quizzical eyebrow. "You came all this way to talk to _me_ about my _replacement_?" The chains rattled with his attempt at standing. "Guard! We're done here!"

The two by the gray portal scooted forward. Judy frantically waved them off. "No! No please, sir, please! Just a few questions. Please."

At some point, the air conditioning had started. Her uniform, even without her badge, remained stifling, as it had all day. Hot was the street where the young lynx had pled for food. She watched the inmate's golden fur shuffle in the stale wind. She doubted he had ever missed a meal.

Lionheart reclaimed his seat and settled down. The guards resumed their stances. The ugly lights bore down all the same.

"Lobos," the inmate growled, "he's a character. A university professor, his career before politics. Still is his career, I suppose. Studies ancient cultures, I think, something about the psychology or whatever. He's a sharp guy, interesting, enthralling maybe. His students loved him, booked those classrooms solid whenever he taught."

"And so he gave that up to be in City Hall?"

It was an uncomfortable question for Lionheart, or so it seemed. His chair creaked, whined metallically as he pulled back from his inquisitor. "Fell into it, if I remember right. A spot opened up as an advisor when we did some rezoning for some sections of Zootopia. Had to protect the old buildings, historical sites, I dunno, I didn't read his reports. From there, he…rose through the ranks."

Judy caught the twitch of Lionheart's snout. Perhaps he was out of practice, trapped here between pristine white walls, but his mendacity was not up to par for such a successfully crooked politician. "Rose through the ranks? There's more to it than _that_ , isn't there?"

Lionheart delivered a defiant glare...or, maybe it was more defensive, hiding something. "Why do you care, Hopps?" His breath reeked of a buried and rotten truth.

Judy stared back. The lynx cried, called for home. Steam from fresh bread curled away into the muggy afternoon air. Shouts echoed between broken buildings. They fueled the fire burning behind lavender irises.

And her glare won out. Lionheart sighed and broke away. "Fine…." She watched his matted mane swing around in the trickle of wind. "Fine then. Answer this question for me, Hopps: Who runs our city?"

Mild surprise made her gasp. It was a simple question, really, which should have had a simple answer. Yet, Lionheart's shifting figure, nervous about the conversation to come, had Judy thinking otherwise. She sat quietly and played with her paws.

"That's what I thought." For a moment, Lionheart sounded proud again. The source of that pride, however, baffled Judy as he talked on. "Because it was never _me_. The mayor runs nothing. I looked the part —that was the job. But real decisions, they come from somewhere else."

"Who!" Judy demanded. The immediacy of her response jolted Lionheart's eyes wide open in what seemed to be authentic shock. And she wondered if he would actually provide a real answer.

He didn't. "Oh, not a chance, my dear. If I talk that much, I'm carrion."

At that very instant, Judy dearly wished that Nick were in the room. Judy could smell dishonesty — a prerequisite for her career. But Nick's sense was altogether different. It was special in a way, informed by years of haggling, hustling, swindling. He possessed a frightening ability to extract truth from just about anyone he faced. This type of double-talk and lying was outside of Judy's realm, though she hated admitting that.

Perhaps Lionheart knew that, for he seemed to take pity on the officer. "Tell ya what, Hopps, I'll put it this way. The Mammal Inclusion Initiative, the one that let you onto the police force… do you really think it was my idea? I may have been the handsome face for it, but that's where my role ended. They decided when it began, what it would look like. I mean, there's a good chance they had already picked you out before you ever applied. It was their _beneficence_ that gave you your badge."

Lionheart snorted. It was a tired sound, proper for these tired white walls. His face drooped as his long breath expelled some measure of his soul. "No, it's someone else who put me in charge. And who put Lobos in charge after me. Whatever they do, Hopps, there's a very good reason for it."

A soft silence descended onto the table. Even the buzz of the fluorescent suns above fell away to the stillness. The scent of a latent fear, one carefully guarded but present all the same, lingered around Lionheart; Judy could sniff it out. She almost had to grab her cheeks to stop the cringe. Whoever, or whatever, could instill such… _obedience_ …from a creature as once-powerful as Lionheart, however, deserved respect. Judy decided to tread lightly. "But Lobos seems like a strange choice."

The former mayor of Zootopia managed a dingy smirk. "Oh Hopps, perhaps it seems strange to you. But they don't choose quickly — or poorly. Look at me, right?" His comment was a tad too wry for Judy's taste. Lionheart shrugged. "Hmph, fine. But Arturo Lobos, see, he may be a crony...but he's no fool, Hopps. He's smarter than everyone expects him to be. He's got a real knack for politicking, and he somehow gets people to like him in the process. If you're poking around on him, it'd be prudent of you to remember all that."

His steel chair groaned as he leaned away from Judy and offered some space to ponder the gravity of his words. Putting aside the casual revelation that her career could have begun on the whim of these mysterious individuals, Judy's mind went to work. Processing would take time, time preferably spent outside this windowless box. And Nick would probably have a few tidbits and opinions of his own to throw into the mix. But, she wanted to be sharp right now in this room...and to get her answers.

His chair squeaked, and suddenly Lionheart had reentered her space. It blunted her senses more than she expected. "But what I'm still trying to figure out, Hopps, is why you care so much. This is all so far outside the purview of ZPD. I can't imagine this to be relevant to a case or investigation. So what could you want...with...hmm…."

While Lionheart squinted and hummed, Judy recalled with great clarity the actual reason she had pursued this meeting. She hadn't planned to broach this subject in this manner, but a small part of her was relieved that Lionheart would puzzle his way to what she was truly there to ask. It would almost make it an easier pitch, and letting him get to the answer himself might make him a tad more cooperative in providing useful feedback.

And with impressive speed, understanding brought the cheeky grin to Lionheart's face. "No, surely not. I thought being an _officer of the law_ was your _dream_?"

She didn't care much for his mocking tone. Many things in her life had been open to ridicule. Her profession was not among those. Still, she clung to her composure. "Helping people is my dream. Whatever that looks like, it's what I have to do."

That seemed to appease Lionheart — or perhaps amuse him. He gave Judy back her space and muttered quietly for a few moments before barking out, "Admirable…but your _spirit_ alone would not be enough. What makes you think you have the mettle for it? The stomach to do what is necessary?"

And that was the very question Judy was hoping to answer. Lionheart likely had his thoughts on the matter already gathered; the smug smirk telegraphed that. Lights buzzed overhead, and they were louder than before but made their noise with an eerie harmony. A chord, beautiful in its own way, came together in this terrible place.

"My job, Mr. Lionheart, requires me to see some of the worst our city has to offer. The best, too, do not mistake me, there is good out there. But not everyone gets to see that goodness. They're trapped, maybe by themselves, maybe by the system in which they live and work and play and love. And as long as I wear my badge and speak my oath, I cannot live with myself knowing that I could've _done_ something to make it even just a bit better for them. To show them goodness. I've never given up before. I won't start now."

The light bulbs had found their song, and they sang with pride as the table remained still. Her lavender irises steeled with a conviction that would send Nick scampering away, for he knew what the gaze meant. She watched as Lionheart sat motionless with his mouth open just a smidgen. It rose inside her, the feeling she had been seeking. Her articulacy had been a little surprising, but her words had been true. And Nick had been right…she had nearly been over the hump.

And Lionheart shoved her back down.

Hot were her cheeks as Lionheart guffawed with a rude sound that carried well in this ugly room. It drowned out the tune of the lights with extreme prejudice.

Between snorts, he delivered his brief excoriation. "And you think being mayor will let you fix what, the system? To show people _goodness_?" His next round of laughing was hoarser and meaner. Eventually, he settled down enough to speak. "Ah, your idealism is refreshing after so long in this place. But no, Hopps, it will not happen that way. They will never let it happen. You do not have the iron will to face this, despite your persistence in your chosen line of work. They will devour you, my dear."

Her fur prickled at the cruelty of Lionheart's pathetic diatribe. _Too much time alone_ , Judy figured. Yet, what he said held a sway over her. No matter the lunacy of listening to a washed-up has-been currently chained to a prison table, she could not root out the doubt Lionheart had planted. The sweet taste of carrots inexplicably dallied on her tongue as she tried to compile some decent response.

But he did not let up. "Oh, my, well you know, I will give credit where it is due, Hopps. You have the face for the job. The body to boot, too. Indeed, you are _cute_ , little girl…."

Carrots faded away, and bitterness sunk in. If this were a ploy to get her riled up, it was working. And were Nick seated next to her, she knew he'd advise her to back off, to walk out the door and leave this filth to rot in his cell. Alas, Nick was nowhere to be found.

Her head buzzed with a single phrase, and it took every ounce of willpower she had to keep it locked inside.

 _Don't you say it again._

"…but being _cute_ isn't going to win you any elections!"

 _You said it again._

Her steel chair growled as it slid away from the table. The prison guards could tell what was boiling within her, and they shuffled nervously as Judy landed on clenched toes.

She turned away.

And Lionheart's chains sighed as they chased her footsteps toward the door. "Ah, Hopps, leaving so soon?"

Judy delivered three strikes on the door, and the latch clicked as Robinson swung open the portal. She stopped and cast a lavender iris over her shoulder. And it was steeled, resolute, and harmonious.

"Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Lionheart. I have everything I need now."

#

* * *

 _A/N: And that's the end of Chapter 2! Hope you enjoyed it. The first part of Chapter 3 will be on the way soon. In the meantime, please read and review! Thank you, Euphonemes_

 _Updated: 2/12/17 - "Panther" is now "black jaguar." Good catch, **LanceJZ**!_


	5. Chapter 3: Part I

_Run_

For the fifth time, the phone rang. And for the fifth time, she ignored it.

Eventually, she would need to tell them. Between their gasps of surprise, she would need to lay out the plan that had engrossed her during her train ride back to the city, her walk back to her cramped apartment, and her evening taken back from sleep. Lionheart's sneer still echoed in her weary mind as she sat at her secondhand desk and doodled on the fortieth or fiftieth piece of paper.

Her phone whistled in a familiar three-toned warble as her parents left their voicemail. She had already neglected to respond to them for several days, and once the recent excitement had absconded with her attention...she was busy, sure, and her parents understood, but that was a poor excuse.

The moon hid this evening, leaving only the soft azure glow of the nearby neon signs to bathe her space. The desk lamp shone brilliantly, pouring out an amber pool onto her desk, submerging the outlines of so many thoughts, ideas, and concerns. Judy grumbled as she carelessly flipped through three crumpled notebook pages. Ragged tears ran down the side of each as marks of failure.

The steeled resolve hung on in her lavender eyes, but it was sealed beneath the toughened glaze of exhaustion and doubt. The pencil scratched and then crunched as the lead fractured.

Judy sighed.

Her last pencil worn to its end, she leaned back in her creaking chair and surveyed her workspace. Smudged notes written in a furious hand were scattered about. Partially erased plans, abandoned for a variety of reasons, littered her normally austere desktop. Papers were filled with muddled musings, with most of them mean to combat Lionheart's cruel laugh trapped in a windowless box. And they were all perfectly unhelpful in figuring out how to run for mayor.

The inferno that had burst into existence as she stepped away from Lionheart's table had been raging until this moment. Fuel spent, it wound down to embers, smoldering silently in the late night — or was it early morning? Judy peered out her window to a city always awake and found no answer. She yawned, and the chair creaked as she rested her head on her desk.

Though her mind was weary, she still picked up the loud sound at her door. Was it a thunderclap? Whatever it was banged on the door again. They were explosions! Once more, the sound was at her door, and then Judy recognized a paw slamming on the flimsy wood. His voice sliced right through it. "C'mon Carrots, open the door."

"Wha…time…" she murmured. Paws waggled about the desk, seeking out the simple alarm clock that was sitting clear across the other side of the room. Frustrated and trapped in her sleepy state, she quit her futile search and slithered from her chair. The floor squeaked as she trundled to her door and snapped the lock.

The door nearly smacked her in the nose as Nick barged through the entryway. "Oh, how _good_ of you to let me in. Wasn't like I hadn't heard from you since lunch or anything. Nothing to worry about."

Sleep that she had almost started still clung to her mind. "Uh…what do you…mean?"

"Check your phone, Hopps."

She scrabbled back to her desk and woke her phone. Notifications flitted across the enlivened screen. As expected, a voicemail from her parents sat in her inbox. But, she had not expected the four others, all from Nick.

Dawn was breaking over her senses, even as it remained eerily blue outside. She gurgled as she realized she had totally forgotten Nick while conducting her day's business. He had not been happy when he had to watch her run away those many hours ago. Perhaps he was even — no, it was likely he was upset that she had disappeared. His tone here in her apartment made that evident, though his mere presence at this hour also spelled it out rather plainly. "I…sorry." That was honestly all she could muster.

Maybe Nick saw the bags under her eyes and took pity. Everything about him softened (even if his words were a little mean). "Wow, ya look rough…and I mean that as nicely as I can."

Somehow, that roused Judy enough to deliver a half-measure of a response. "Yeah, well, you're not so…good looking yourself, sir." Her stomach rolled suddenly, as it did whenever she outright lied. Nick stood in the center of her small piece of Zootopia, clothed in lazy eveningwear with strands of his fur slightly ruffled. She had grown accustomed to him being bedecked in his uniform blues and the sharpness that came with it. Yet, even in his plain attire…it had to be the glaze of exhaustion that filtered Nick now, the ratty tee shirt flattering the contours of his body in elegant simplicity.

Judy smacked her lips as she began, "So…now that you're here…what, um…." She shook her head, trying to knock sense into her skull. An ear drowsily flopped down over a tired eye, and she grunted.

Nick chuckled as she fumbled at the renegade appendage. "Well, now that I'm here and you're up…how'd it go with Lionheart?"

"Uh, it could've gone better, but, eh…." She struggled to recount the raw emotions that had been unleashed in the prison meeting room. Lionheart's laugh still rang in her floppy ears; the denigration of her profession, of herself, still stung as deeply as it had that afternoon. Nick understood that kind of pain — he had often told of the terror he experienced in his younger days at the hands of similar cruelty. Yet, shaping it into words, expressing it clearly, was beyond difficult. She settled for summarizing her visit.

"Called you _cute_ , did he? He should've known better." His usual smirk flattened in a display of...empathy, perhaps? Judy figured that Nick really did care. Presenting it, however, had never been his forte. Oddly, Judy discovered herself to be… _charmed_ by Nick's display, as insignificant as it may have seemed.

"…and what do we have here? All these papers…." Judy also discovered that her attention had faded. In the brief interim, Nick had sidled over to her mess of a desk and was rifling through the dozens of crumpled, torn, and smudged sheets. They were pieces of some grand plan, but disparate, disjointed, unreasonable, and certainly nothing ready to present to the critical eye of Nicholas Wilde.

Judy swooped in, and she bashed Nick's paw. He exhaled sharply as she swerved into the gap between Nick and the desk and scooped up every loose leaf of her plan; she may have even thrown an elbow or two to box out her compatriot. He played along — he probably had deduced what was scribbled on those pages and, being Nick, only wanted to stir up a little trouble for his weary partner.

"Nothing! It's nothing at all! Just — don't!" A stray page had escaped her grasp. Nick was faster. He laughed as he played keep-away against Judy's quasi-free paw. Her other had smashed the papers to her chest, but as she danced around to retrieve Nick's prize, other leaves fell from her grip. The duo circled the apartment at least three times before Judy huffed and tossed everything to the ground. Crumpled pages splashed across her floor.

Nick didn't seem to notice. He was too engrossed in the one he possessed. "Hmm…a hearts and minds campaign. Interesting, if naïve." He chucked aside the page. Judy glared with paws firmly planted on hips as Plan H out of BB — she had twice exhausted the alphabet in her lettering system — fluttered to its resting spot.

"And just _why_ is it naïve to want to reach people's hearts?" she demanded with a forceful and strong voice, as her waltz with Nick had been invigorating.

"C'mon Carrots. People don't _trust_ politicians. You need to relate to your voters, sure, but it can't be all niceties and smiles. Gotta give 'em something _good_. Something meaningful for them in their daily lives. Think hearts, minds, and _wallets_ , sweetheart."

She stood strong, ready to berate her vulpine partner. "Y'know what Nick, I…." A wagging finger fell away. Her mouth opened just a tad as she thought it over. " _Wallets,_ " she whispered.

"That's right," Nick interjected, "they wanna know how they can get a job or feed their kids just as much as they wanna smile. Lobos'll know that, I guarantee it."

Her burst of energy drained away. She stared at Nick's tee shirt fluttering gently in her apartment's languid air conditioning and lost her focus in the ruffles of his fur. The motions were random but completed each other in an alluring fashion. This time, both ears drooped over her eyes. "Wallets…I never would've thought of that." And she collapsed to the floor.

Nick crossed the distance in a heartbeat. A sturdy paw soon clasped and warmed the small of her back. She craned her neck back enough to catch the neon glow of the city slide along the strands of his fur. A surreal glow surrounded her partner.

It took several quiet moments for Judy to open up. Nick was patient with her. She sniffled, fighting back the tears born from awful frustration. "Nick, I don't know what to do. This isn't…all of this, the politicking, the people, managing a campaign, it's nothing that I know anything about! I'm not even sure where to _start_. These papers, they're all just _worthless_!" She had a natural ability to kick well, and her foot let loose and splattered a dozen or so pages on the opposite wall.

Her momentum kicked her backward and nestled her in Nick's cradling forelimb. She breathed a few times, and every muscle in her body relaxed. She had not felt comfortable all day, but in Nick's forelimbs, she could let a soft smile brighten her face.

Together, they waited for Judy regain her spirit. Nick's head had shifted into the path of the window, which let a blue aura collect at the tips of his ears. It was distractingly beautiful, and Judy nestled closer to Nick. The azure light vibrated with his fur as they sat together, not speaking and telling volumes all the same. Judy was content to let her mind go blank, which left her with no clue as to how much time had passed before Nick spoke again.

"Done with your tantrum, Carrots?"

She scoffed as she squirmed. "Oh, Nick, you certainly know how to ruin it, don't'cha."

"A specialty of mine, partner. Now then, Miss Mayor, let's get you to work." He didn't give a rude shove, but it was imbued with purpose. Her muscles engaged again, and strength surged through her veins. She hopped to her feet; Nick was more deliberate in rising from the floor.

"Okay then…okay." Judy's mind was clearer, sharper. The short break with the sturdy Nick restored the shiny veneer to her lavender eyes, and she blinked a few times as ideas percolated. "So, I figure I shouldn't be managing this campaign."

"Because you'll be too busy winning it, that's right."

Judy allowed herself a congenial laugh. "Right! So I will need someone to do that for me."

Judy was pacing in a straight and narrow line, from one baseboard to the other. Nick stayed clear of her path, having plunked down in her desk chair. She could hear the squeaking as he bounced ever so slightly.

"Did you have someone in mind, partner?"

She paused, and her eyes whipped to the chair. Nick twitched with the smallest dose of surprise. "I did indeed, Mr. Wilde."

With a flourish, he placed an innocent-looking paw on his chest. "Do you mean _moi_? What a tempting offer, Ms. Hopps. Of course, I don't think you could afford me. I _am_ an expert, after all. Sought after by many of the greatest political minds of our time and whatnot."

His mocking tone made her grunt. She crossed her forelimbs and tapped an impatient foot. She had the utmost confidence in her ability to outlast his foolishness.

She did. "But, in your case, I could perhaps make an exception to my usual fees." From his seat, Nick issued a shallow bow. "At your service, Your Honor."

"And I accept. Looking forward to working with you." This time, her unnecessary formality elicited a snort from her new campaign manager. She grinned while Nick alighted from the chair and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his candidate.

"Alright then, Candidate Hopps. As your new campaign manager, I have some suggestions for strategy. But, before we get into those nitty-gritty details, the first thing we'll need is some support."

"Support?"

"Oh, right, we'll have to brief you on the parlance," Nick mumbled. Judy cocked an eyebrow as her campaign manager produced a broad grin. "I mean money, my dear mayoral wannabe. We need some _capital_."

She gasped, which was a short and quiet sound. "We need money already?" A far-flung part of her knew that eventuality loomed on the horizon. Still, to hear Nick mention it while bathed in the blue of the city, while their idea so young…it shocked her.

"Well, filing campaign declaration documents won't be cheap. And that'll be step one out of a few hundred, all of which will require cash."

"Oh." She wished she had said something smarter. Nick grumbled, possibly in assent, she had trouble telling. Now freed from Nick's limbs, her strength wavered. "But without a strategy, how will we know how much cash we'll need?"

"More, Candidate Hopps. We'll always need more. But you don't worry about that now; your manager will."

Bright canines lit up with the azure glow that coated her room. Before, it had been similar to the color of her Bunnyburrow sky over carrot fields but drained of the same vitality; it had been dry, not ugly but unappealing in its own right. With Nick's devilish grin, though, the azure was enlivened and beautiful again. She sighed. "All right then...where will we go to start?"

A flash sprinted across his emerald eyes; she was plenty awake to catch that. Then he chuckled, a rather devious laugh that sent adrenaline shooting through Judy once more. Alertness returned as Nick pondered, "I have a good idea on where to start."

Nick wheeled around on his heel, heading right for the door. Judy thought about stopping him, but her curiosity overrode her caution. She scampered behind while her mind wandered into unforeseen possibilities. She ran through a mental index of Nick's contacts — she knew far too many of them for comfort. One after another, she crossed them off her list. Though, she supposed, it depended on _how much_ money Nick equated with _more_ and how quickly they would need it. She refiled her list and began anew.

So lost was she in thought that she wandered directly into Nick's back. He stood frozen while Judy mumbled some type of apology, though Nick didn't seem to be listening. "Oh, before we go, I'll need something back from you." A gust blew in his wake as he leaped away and threw open the door to her laughably tiny closet, where he started rooting through her clothing with reckless abandon.

Judy was still rubbing her nose when she caught sight of Nick's impromptu and undisciplined search. She was displeased, to phrase it mildly. "What're you doing Nick!"

"That jacket — where _is_ it? Gotta be here somewhere."

It took her a moment to catch on. "The one from the party?" Thoughts from a colder night swirled back around her. The heavy padding pressed against her shoulders, and she flopped her arms in the too-long sleeves, letting the fabric fall from the elbow. Faint traces of Nick were trapped in the fibers, released by the warmth of his guiding paw and the sheets of her bed that she wrapped around herself after a night of excess carrot purée.

And she remembered where the jacket lay. "Nick, wait, it's not in there." Shirts and sundries whizzed by her ear, which flopped in front of her eye. "Nick…Nick, stop! Hang on!" And she hopped into the fray, lavender eyes aflame once more in the blue of the city.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reading this story! I hope you've found it interesting. Please let me know what you think - review are great, and PMs are perfect if you don't want to post publicly! More to come for Chapter 3!_

 _Updated 1/2/17_


	6. Chapter 3: Part II

_Run_

"You really should call 'em back. They're probably worried sick…and if you don't do it soon, they're gonna let you _have it_."

Judy spun her phone between her paws. The black screen glinted as it nabbed the subdued lighting in the vehicle's cabin. She squirmed as two burly guards — polar bears with impeccably manicured white fur and clothed in bespoke suits — sat opposite her in the limousine. A minor bout of claustrophobia hovered somewhere close.

She ignored Nick's advice and slipped the phone back into her pocket. It took some finagling in the cramped quarters. While she handled that, she offered, "I'm surprised he was up this late."

"Really?"

Judy turned away, her paw propping up her heavy head. She noticed a loose thread hanging from the hem of her jacket sleeve and half-heartedly blew at it. "…no. But the fact he wanted to meet…and so soon. Is that a good thing, Nick?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the noncommittal shrug that would madden a less seasoned partner. "Guess we'll find out, Hopps."

Azure signs had given way to the palette that swirled in the very earliest of the morning. Muted lights illumined from shop windows. Harsh white office bulbs ignited. The first ray of sunlight curved over the horizon and glanced off the powdering of snow that signaled the edge of Tundratown. Judy watched out the window — tinted, which dulled the exquisite hues that played in the sky outside.

Apart from her incredibly vigilant guards, the ride was terrifically smooth. And terrifically boring. She must have stifled half a dozen yawns while the ornate limousine had whisked them away from her drab apartment and barreled down the empty predawn roadways. Calm, uneventful…depleting. The only thing keeping her awake was the small ticking sound her jacket sleeve's button made when it collided with the window as she dozed off intermittently.

Nick had mostly kept to himself. Judy found the quietness in the vehicle wholly unnerving. She could invariably count on Nick to shatter any such silence with the most inane of comments or snidest of remarks. Yet, he picked at a claw and held eye contact with the floorboard. Judy wondered how Nick truly felt about this trip. His smile, which had broadened after he located his dinner jacket back in her apartment, had evaporated when the car had arrived, as if reality were settling in to his great displeasure.

 _Let's find out how much cash we can get to start, and then we can whip up some ideas around that_. He sounded so confident in the confines of her slice of the city. Could it be now that Nick Wilde had doubts about his plan?

She had to ask. "Nick, you doing alright?"

"Just fine, Carrots." Perhaps a little harsher than he had expected it to sound. He scrunched his face, which encouraged Judy to chuckle airily. He wasn't amused. "Try to nap, would ya? It'll be a long meeting in—"

"Quiet. We're here." The first three words — and probably the only three words — Judy and Nick would hear that guard utter. Gravelly and authoritative, he would have made for an excellent cop in another life. A soft pop, and the door gave way. Judy nearly spilled out of her seat. Flighty feet landed on chilled permafrost. The cold pricked at first, but with a few solid steps, she warmed to it. Walking around could do her exhausted body some good, she thought.

She heard Nick laugh as she executed a couple deep stretches. She didn't care…they did the trick. She rubbed her baggy eyes and hopped in place. It all looked patently ridiculous, she did not doubt that. But now, as she faced down a foreboding door, Judy knew her faculties would need to be in place.

They were wordlessly shoved inside, a guard's fat paw never leaving their shoulders as they meandered through narrow hallways. It certainly wasn't their affinity for police that kept these guards attached. Along their path, they passed by several open doors and nabbed bits of whispered deals and discussions of questionable legality. Judy was overwhelmingly glad she had opted to swap out her uniform for the plain attire adorning her now. There likely would have been trouble had she started flashing that badge of hers around here.

Nick rolled one shoulder out from his guard's vice grip and leaned just slightly into Judy's space. His voice was rather hoarse — nervous, even — as he whispered, "Let's try to avoid the ice this time, m'kay?"

She let fly a scornful stare. "Wasn't my fault the last time, _Nick_." He huffed while she softened. "Besides, Mr. Big isn't _all_ bad. He buys good cake!" The cake bit was true, but something inside of her caught on the rest of her words. Disbelief in her own sentence spawned quickly.

"Oh, well then…I'll keep that in mind."

Their journey concluded in the ornately decorated room they expected. The foreboding sense had dissipated somewhat during their walk and, for some reason, it did not surge again here in the cloistered realm of Mr. Big. At least, Judy did not sense it. But she watched the barely perceptible waves of tremors shake Nick's fur from his feet to his ears. Nick the worrywart again. Though, given his typical encounter with Mr. Big, perhaps he had valid reason to be concerned.

The room was largely unchanged. The familiar desk stood away, the tiny chair situated on its top. The whole set had been polished recently, varnished wood that almost sparkled like the pieces of the ice floe underfoot. "Wait here," barked one of the guards before they plodded out the other door.

Torpid minutes passed. Enough time for Tundratown to start chilling the fire in Judy's belly. Her surety of purpose came under assault from pesky doubts. Sensing Nick's uncertainty, and wanting to avoid calamity, she tried withholding her words. But, as one minute folded into the next, the doubts began to win the skirmish.

She wondered if Nick could ease those doubts, turn the tide of the battle within her. And perhaps having another set of thoughts to mull in his mind would calm him. She spoke. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

Given the alarm Nick had to be currently experiencing, Judy was surprised by his quick answer. "Y'know, isn't that what everyone told you when you wanted to be a cop?"

 _Right_. Taken aback, Judy tilted onto her heels and took the chance to stretch her aching leg muscles. It cleared her head for a couple seconds, long enough to remember the passing comment of the creature trapped in the white windowless box. "About that. When I spoke with Lionheart, he hinted that there was more at play. That I wasn't…I'm not…." Judy had ignored Lionheart's chatter for long enough. But now, to give voice to the accusation that her career had begun on a stranger's whim…she was stymied.

Nick was not. "Wait. You actually listened to Lionheart about something? C'mon Carrots, you're better than that. He'd say _anything_ to get in your head." Her old moniker was making quite the comeback. Intriguing that it reappeared whenever Nick was perturbed. She jotted a mental note to later investigate how far that could be stressed.

Regardless, Nick was right again. And she found his words ameliorative. They were softening some doubts, but others still buzzed about. She altered her tack. "So walk me through this… if Mr. Big gives money to us, given what he, you know, _gets into_ …I mean, is that…bad money? And if we take it…." She trailed off as Nick clicked his tongue.

"Eh. Maybe it's bad money. Who knows — and don't ask him where it came from either. But, no matter the source of this cash, if he gives us anything at all, it's going to something good. _You_ are a good cause. And I guess that kinda changes things. You could even call it _redemption_ if you wanted to... _I_ wouldn't, but hey." He sounded reasonable — likely, he had planned for just this sort of objection.

Yet, she wasn't tremendously settled by his thoughts. "I…I don't know, Nick. I thought I was okay with it." And she had been. Excited eyes had opened wide when the limo whipped up to her curb. That thrill, though, had waned in the span of a few heartbeats. Questions, doubts, had flooded in as a replacement. "Now that we're here…."

"Hey." Not terse like she would have expected. Reassuring, actually. "You're getting cold feet. I know it's scary being here…believe me." She could not miss the much larger shudders that rolled along his body and collided with one another. A stormy sea of fur, partially obscured by a lopsided dinner jacket, roiled in the darkened room. "But this is part of what we'll have to do. This kinda stuff…we have a lot more to go."

Pondering his words offered Judy a brief reprieve from her own problems. Nevertheless, more doubts rose from the field. "But what if somebody starts asking about this money. I mean, how can you defend it? "

He was borderline flippant in his response. "Nobody _cares_ enough to ask about it. It'll put most anyone right to sleep. Ya don't hear Gazelle singing any chart-toppers about campaign finance, yeah?"

Judy stewed in silence for a few moments. Nick wore the pleading frown that had cost Judy a decent amount in Jumbeaux's Cafe long ago. Resistance to that look of his had come at a significant price. She let out a horribly weary sigh. "…I guess. But just because no one cares doesn't make it _right_ , Nick. I just…I don't know how I _feel_ about _—_ "

" _Perhaps_ , Carrots," Nick stated rather decisively, "we can argue the complexities of the morality of this money that _I don't know if we'll even get_ another time? Like when we're _not standing in Mr. Big's home?_ "

Indeed, Judy had not considered her surroundings when she launched her inquiry. Though she was far from satisfied, she bashfully batted at the hem of the ludicrously expensive floor rug _— definitely_ not made of skunk-butt _—_ with her foot. "Fair point." And the door flew wide open.

The two guards again crossed the room, but one was cradling their benefactor in a meaty paw. The raspy voice began before he had even reached his seat. "Ah, the finest officer of the Zootopia Police Department. What a pleasure to be having you grace my room with your illustrious presence." His gracious compliments had Judy titter softly, even as a part of her wondered how much of it was just honey. Their meeting, though, was already warmer than usual. At least until Mr. Big had claimed his seat and set eyes upon her compatriot. "Mr. Wilde. I was most surprised to have received your call. Especially as you may have a few certain outstanding debts that require repayment."

And just like that, Judy was livid. Nick had sworn off his old ways — or so he claimed. In a flash, his arguments of bad money for good reasons were revealed to be a smokescreen, as hollow as the promise he had made. Thoughts of what dastardly deeds Nick had committed flooded her mind while her muscles coiled, ready to pounce.

She nearly missed Mr. Big's rough chuckle, the sound of a burlap sack of gravel being tossed about. "A joke, Ms. Hopps." He must have noticed the tension building — even though she had not realized how high-strung she was at present. "Our debts were settled long ago. Although, given you being here on this fine and early morning, I imagine that that will soon no longer be true."

"Just maybe, sir, because I've got a great deal for you!" Nick brandished his trademark smile. Judy forcibly restrained the groan.

Mr. Big appeared unmoved. "And what deal would that be, Mr. Wilde?"

Slick gestures manifested in his paws. He slid around the room, expertly drawing attention to where he wanted it. "Change is in the air, Mr. Big. A new day dawns over our fair city. Fresh energy that can make a real difference. Everyone will want in on it. And _you_ , good sir, get to come in on the _ground floor_ and be an original supporter of the next Mayor of Zootopia!"

Nick flourished his aggrandizement with a wide grin. He had properly animated himself. Judy observed the emeralds in his eyes gleam like jewels. There was passion emanating from their cores…enough to rid the exhaustion from Judy's system, if only for a short while.

Mr. Big sat stoically while Nick receded back to Judy. Some throat-clearing grumbles — someone running over the bag of gravel with a truck — and he asked, "Are you this candidate, Mr. Wilde?"

A jitter coursed through Nick's cheeks, his grin short-circuiting momentarily. "No sir, this fine candidate is standing right next to me!" He opened his arms wide and directed the room to Judy, who flinched involuntarily. She gave a rather shy wave and smile.

"And so, Ms. Hopps, you come to me this day to seek, what? Financial support for your candidacy?"

"She does indeed," Nick interceded, stepping forward. His toes cleared the edge of the rug. "And I'll tell you why you should—"

Nick didn't get the chance. A tiny paw went up and the fox shut his mouth. "Mr. Wilde, I would like to be hearing this from the candidate herself. If you would go ahead and step aside so that we can speak."

"…yeah, o-of course, Mr. Big, sir…." Nick was truly flabbergasted. Judy had never seen him so lost, so deprived of the joy he extracted from his banter. She quite nearly laughed.

Mr. Big did not sound icy or cruel — rather, he was very nearly conciliatory. "One of my associates here will obtain for you a beverage of your choosing. Do you have a preference, Mr. Wilde?"

Something to pacify her campaign manager. He twitched in odd ways as he thought. "…coffee?"

With a wave, Mr. Big set to task one of his burly guards. For such a large creature, he made little noise as he slipped through the side door and down whatever hall lay behind it. Nick waited patiently right around one of the corners of the room, as far from Mr. Big as possible.

Having effectively neutralized Nick, Mr. Big continued, "So then, Ms. Hopps, what exactly would you ask from me?"

At that exact time, she reached the somewhat disconcerting realization that she and Nick had never discussed an actual figure. It was evident that Mr. Big certainly had capacity to give a lot. And they had felt rather confident in their linkage with him. But her campaign manager had never reconciled those to produce a real number — or if he had, it was now locked away in the corner of the room where Nick huddled.

A solid litmus test for her skills. She took a deep breath. "Well, sir, first off, I realize I have not thanked you for your time yet. We really are grateful for this opportunity." When Mr. Big murmured a kind of acknowledgement, she rolled on. "Sir…our city, it's good. It's a wonderful place to experience life. To find yourself and what you're truly meant to be. But, recently I found out that not everyone has the opportunity to find themselves. To be anything they want to be. And that bothers me...no, it _infuriates me_. Just like it should do for any one of us who call this city our home."

The words sprung from nowhere — no, that wasn't true. They were always there. Buried deep within her soul by the ceaseless frustrations of her position. All suddenly freed. The fire rose. "So I suppose, sir, I'm asking you to help make this city a _home_ for those who have not found it yet. That's what I want to do. It's what I've done as a police officer, and I believe it's what I must do as a leader, as a citizen of Zootopia. Our leaders now, I think they've forgotten that. So…it's time to _remind_ them."

Her call to action hung in the heavy air of the room. She stood, immovable, eyes that hinted of lavender trained on the shriveled shrew before her. The door creaked open — Judy did not relent — and Nick could be heard sheepishly thanking the guard for bringing a delectably-scented cup of coffee. Mr. Big was a stone until his guard returned to his side. Then, "How much do you need?"

The dreaded number. She had to think fast. Next to Mr. Big rested a notepad and pen of reasonable size — out of place in this room, she thought. Regardless, it would suit her needs commendably. In a swift motion, she seized the pad and pen, and she scribbled down a number. A big number. She folded it up and placed it in front of her potential donor. "This."

A slow and deliberate unfurling, careful study of Judy's note, and Mr. Big grunted. In an instant, panic electrified her spirit. Her mind churned as she contemplated the meaning behind that grunt. Nick slurped loudly, clearly disdainful of being relegated to the corner. No help there.

A throat cleared, then the raspy voice rose. "You have been good to my family, my daughter and her fourteen children."

From over her head, Judy caught Nick coughing on his beverage. She suppressed the smirk she so desperately wanted to throw back to him.

"And for this, I want to repay you. Additionally, I am thinking it would be good to be owed a favor from the Mayor of our fine city." A hoarse chuckle. Steadfast Judy did not blink. "So I will give you what you need to begin this campaign."

The thrill was undeniable. Injected into every fiber of her being. She vibrated with newfound energy — not the jolt of fear, but rather the warmth of relief. Concerns still lived, that was true. But with this success — this _win_ — her doubts lost much ground in that darkened room so early in the morning.

Mr. Big motioned toward Nick. "Now, Mr. Wilde, you may return to this conversation. Our candidate here should not concern herself with the minutiae of my donation. My associates here, they will work out details with you while Ms. Hopps and I discuss some final points of noteworthiness."

The room shifted. Nick bounded up to his partner, his eyelid twitching manically. "What did you ask for?" he whispered harshly as the guards closed the distance with terrific speed.

She allowed herself a rare smug grin. "A number fit for Mr. Big." She patted him on the chest.

"Thanks, Carrots. Appreciate the help." Sardonicism vented, Nick slapped the cheeky grin back on his face and went to work with the guards. "So, boys, how about one big fat check, that oughta do it…."

Nick's voice floated off as Mr. Big summoned Judy close to his chair. At some point, he had risen and wobbled over to the desk's edge. An awkward height — Judy had to half-bend a knee to level her eyes with his.

"I want you to know this," he began in a volume barely above a whisper. "Your words showed careful thought. But I am aware that you are one of action. I remember our time together during the Night Howler incident and what you _did_ , not what you said. This is why I am choosing to support you, Ms. Hopps."

A bunny of action…nothing surprising there, she thought. Still, such praise, even if it came from Zootopia's most notorious mafia don, was a tad delightful. "I see. Thank you, sir."

He mumbled on. "This, _money_ , of mine, it is irrelevant. I have more, there is always more, I do not care if it is used up. Instead, what I give you, Ms. Hopps, and what is of far greater value, is a pledge, to you and yours. As _famiglia._ " A tiny shrew's paw rested on her own. "I do not know if you will win…but you will put up a strong fight, and you will follow your heart. That is assurance enough for me."

For a formidable crime boss — _oops, businessman I mean_ — Mr. Big was really in touch with his deeper thought and feelings. Understanding others was probably vital to conducting business — _wait, crime? No, business! —_ in his particular line of work. Perhaps she should not have been so shocked. Nonetheless, she failed to hold back her look of surprise.

Her new benefactor noticed. "It must be quite unexpected to hear me speaking this way. But this, _kindness_ , I am showing you — do not have loose lips about what I am sharing with you. I cannot have those around me thinking me malleable. Given your association with him, others will think Mr. Wilde has fooled me into taking it easy on him. That is something that I can ill afford. Do you understand?"

A quick answer. "Uh-huh — um, I mean, yessir!"

"Good, very good…" Mr. Big muttered into incoherency. He delicately waved her back as he trundled back toward his little chair. Nick and the guards had commandeered the corner where he had been waiting impatiently. Muffled words, even with Judy's expert ear trained on the group. Notes of Nick's voice would overtake the others — excited sounds, positive even. They ended their parlay with high and warm tones — a good sign, Judy believed.

"We're good, Hopps," he said right into Judy's ear. She winced enough to get a snicker from Nick.

"To your satisfaction, Mr. Wilde?"

"Completely, sir." And it sounded like Nick really meant it. She examined him, noticed the loss of the atypical tension that had racked his body only minutes before. The emeralds in his eyes glistened brilliantly. The smallest of gasps escaped Judy's pursed lips.

"Very good then. My associates will escort you to the limousine. Ms. Hopps, I am eager to see what you can do."

"Me too, sir."

And meaty paws returned to their shoulders.

Back in the hallways, as they passed again the doors with shady deals behind them, Judy's thrill rapidly chilled. A creeping realization intruded as Nick's _morality of this money_ , as he phrased it, became realized. No longer trapped in the abstract. The doubts poured back in.

It was almost magical, Nick's timing. He leaned back and whispered into her ear. "Stop your worrying. I didn't take the money."

She nearly tripped over herself. "Whaa—" she started to scream, but her paw held back the fury trying to escape her mouth. "But…but I thought we _needed_ that money, Nick!"

The devilish smirk. "Thing is…ya _needed_ to know you could do it."

She stared in incredulity. The polar bear's paw had to put in extra effort to keep pace with Nick's movement. Her fear, her thrill, her panic…for what? "Do…."

He shrugged. "Make an ask like that. And — to be totally transparent — I needed to know it, too. And ya did a good job, actually. A little confidence boost, I hope."

In her mind, she watched the jitters roll along Nick's fur. _Not for Mr. Big…but for me._ Oddly, she felt a little sheepish. She had been duped, sure, and she would not relent so easily on that front. Yet, by some strange logic, Nick found himself in the right once more. Or, maybe it was all simply her overwhelming relief in not being forced to justify taking a crime boss's money. Regardless, she allowed a small smile as they neared the front door to Mr. Big's estate. "A heads-up would've been nice."

Nick snorted. "Nah, ya needed the surprise factor. Only way to do it properly. But from now on, the truth and only the truth for you, Candidate Hopps."

The emeralds in his eyes still shone brilliantly. Alive, purposeful. In tandem with the black dinner jacket that was just a hair too big and the grin that was just a shade too cool, Nick looked stunning. Her polar bear guard gave a few shoves as she slowed, studying every angle, every view, of this Nick. The one who had guided her to her real voice.

"Hey, so…" she said as the polar bear helped her catch up to him again. "Do you have more ideas on places to go and people to ask, Nick?"

"Eh, a few."

His nonchalance would normally have her ripping out her own fur. But, a calmness pervaded her spirit. Even Nick being Nick could not ruffle her now, nor could the thought of what wrath Mr. Big would deliver now that she had rejected his generous gift….

"Is he going to be a problem?"

"Who, Mr. Big? Why?"

"Well, we said we'd take his money…and now we're not."

"Wouldn't worry about him."

Too collected, even for Nick. He had been shaking when they arrived. Even if the tremors were for her performance, crossing Mr. Big should have elicited some kind of response from someone who was very nearly iced for betraying Mr. Big's trust before. She was pretty drained, but her tired mind developed a strong hypothesis, which she floated out to her campaign manager.

"Hey, wait. Did you set this whole thing u—"

The door opened. Judy threw her arm over her eyes and squinted in the bright light of morning.

"My — how long were we in there! Nick! What time is it!" She scrambled for her phone and shrieked when the clock displayed. "We need to be _at the precinct_ , like, now!"

Her rabbit legs carried her to the waiting car in three bounds. She could hear him speaking. "Yeah, okay, right behind ya! Just need to make a few calls first…." She slid into her seat and looked back to the foreboding front door. And Nick had disappeared.

"Wait…wait! Ni—"The door slammed. And the limo peeled off toward the skyline alive with the colors of a new morning.

* * *

 _A/N: Ah Nick, how sly. Guess we'll wait and see what happens in Part III of Chapter 3! Let me know what you think. Thanks for taking the time to read this story! ~ Euphonemes_


	7. Chapter 3: Part III

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading this story! I've greatly appreciated your thoughts and comments._

 _And a special thank you to **winerp** , who is now proofing this story and doing a fantastic job of it! (And you should go check out his story, "Change starts with You.")_

 _Enjoy! ~ Best, Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

"There you are!" Furious did not begin to describe the feeling that overwhelmed Judy's senses when Nick ambled through the shiny front doors of their ZPD precinct. Filtered sunlight glinted off the mirror-finished aviators perched on his snout. He must have been the one who got Clawhauser to page her, and as she stormed past the large desk, Nick planted that smug smile on his face. She shuddered as a molten rage bubbled in her gut, contained only by her own paws wrapped around her hips. "Where have you been?"

The smug smile was bad enough. When he let out the shrug, she was fuming, eruption imminent. "I said I had to make a few calls. That's what I did."

Smooth. Collected. And unbearably aggravating. When he had disappeared, Judy had been sealed in the limo and whisked away toward downtown. Alone with the burly guards. She had stared at the floorboard and observed snow tracked in by a polar bear melt into a puddle as the limo zipped through Tundratown and past Sahara Square. It made the air inside reek of fur after a rainstorm. And that had kept sleep at bay.

Once deposited at the precinct, bleary-eyed Judy had found no reprieve as she stumbled past Clawhauser on her way to her desk. She braced for his squeal.

"Uh, h-hey, Judy."

 _Strange_ , she remembered thinking. Clawhauser's bubbly tone had flattened. She had snuck a glance, only to find his eyes buried deep in the crinkling plastic wrapper ensnared by his meaty paws. A more awake Judy may have given it more thought, but as it had stood, her desk was all that was on her mind.

She had arrived at her steel fortress only to discover its parapet lined with stacks of unfinished reports for arrests she didn't recall making. Her pen, typically wielded with a practiced and proud paw, hung limply in her grip, no more eager to get to work than she. A moment's break as she tore open a drawer and pulled out the ZPD blues, repositioning four other sets folded neatly within. Then, paperwork.

Box after box, line after line. The drudge was hypnotic. Her eyes glazed over, and she thought about her partner. Studied him again in his dinner jacket. Rough, just a shade too fancy, but admirable. An effort.

But now, as she wobbled in place and stared down a uniformed Nick, her memory soured. Melted like snow in Sahara Square when she waggled her pen and came within an inch of smacking Nick on his nose. "You left me all alone!"

"Figured you could handle it. Was I wrong?"

Snide, she could tell, even in her exhausted state. She felt the energy rush away. Eruption thwarted. Molten anger cooled into a distasteful ingot that lazily settled along the bottom of her stomach. She need to pace herself — not her forte.

"Whatever," she very nearly surrendered before another thought seized her tongue. "And hey, I thought Mr. Big wanted to turn _you_ into a rug. What happened? What changed?"

The shrug. _That_ _shrug._ "Sorted it out."

Oh, but Judy was fired up. Her ears buzzed as she nearly shouted, "Oh no, not this time, Nicholas! Give me an answer! What did you do?"

Nick played the part of ignorance. "Told ya. Sorted it out."

Paws pattered on the floor. Nick had begun his ritual. The walk to the break room would take him forty-two seconds. Judy made use of each one. "Nick, c'mon! Just tell me! Please, Nick, tell me!" It was not her intention to beg, but her weariness had stolen away any dignity. A real answer was all she needed to find peace at present.

As he passed into his mecca of lounging and procured his second-favorite mug from the cupboard — his pride and joy remained safe at home, Judy knew — Nick denied her any peace. "Does it matter?"

"Yes! It matters to _me_! Your _partner_!"

Nick appeared unmoved while he dusted off the lip of his mug. "Oh, I see, my dear nosy partner. Thing is, though, I already told ya. I sorted it out."

Heat built. Enough to melt the anger again. She erupted. "Wha…what did you say!" Yanking on her own ears as she screamed. Fortunately, it was a light shift today. Only a few curious heads poked up from their desk domiciles to gauge the ruckus by the break room's entrance.

"I just, oh I'm _so_! I just— _oh_!" Her gasp — maybe more of a shriek— could have, with a tad more strength, shattered the coffee pot in Nick's grip. Instead, he continued filling his mug as she threw her paws over her mouth. "Did you do something _illegal_? Nicholas P—"

"Ah, let's stop there." He hated that middle name. She could tell. His tail would bristle in a certain pattern. Hairs would fan out, away from one another, escaping the very utterance of that name. She wondered if it was an automatic response, if he even noticed as he lackadaisically stirred his beverage. "It was all above board, Carrots. Really."

Judy consigned herself to silent judgment while Nick finished preparing the mug of coffee. He brought it to his lips. Steam swirled, vapors trapped in the tight eddies of Nick's breath as he cooled his drink. Still too hot for Judy — she had learned that by accident once — but palatable for her partner. He slurped down half the contents before he spoke.

"Well, now that that's settled — c'mon, let's go. Chief wants to see us."

It was most certainly not settled, but her complaints sunk into her belly as Nick wandered past her tired frame and back toward the door with Bogo branded on it. _Interesting_ , Judy wondered. Nick typically illustrated a serious disregard for authority, especially so when the Chief was around. Yet, his delivery of the Chief's demand for a visit smacked of cronyism, even borderline eagerness.

She acted coy and bopped along behind Nick. As she walked the aisles, Judy's fellow officers paid little heed. In fact, they paid _too_ little heed. Concern of egotism flared briefly, but her logical mind had noticed the odd looks, too. Normally, anyone would give quick glances to an approaching figure, just enough to verify the lack of a threat before returning to normal operation. But first Clawhauser — and now her other fellow officers —all seemed unusually intent on letting their gaze linger away from Judy while she neared Bogo's door.

"Alright, Hopps, after you." A shove right in the small of her back, and she tumbled into the Chief's den. Her terse grumble spilled out, only eliciting a laugh from Nick. As she brushed off her sleeves, she caught the squeaking of the door's impeccably cleaned hinges.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Oh, did I say _us_?" And the door latched.

Only a heartbeat before the thunderous bass boomed. "Hopps. How good of you to make time to visit. Sit."

It wasn't terror that gripped her heart whenever she had occasion to enter the lair of Bogo. That would be too kind of a description. Her anger at Nick had boiled away, leaving behind ample space for the onslaught of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Maybe it was the Cape buffalo's liquefying stare targeting the nape of her neck that had her worried. The curved horns could be menacing, true, as could his beefy build with limbs wider than all of Judy. But, each of those lacked the special coldness lurking behind those commanding eyes. Eyes that directed her quivering form to the plastic chair a few feet from his imposing desk.

Certainly, she had not gotten herself into trouble recently. _A model officer_ , the Chief had written on her last performance review. Despite his austere front, Judy believed Bogo had acquired a soft spot for her. Brought on by solid work, no doubt — Judy and Nick had been nigh unstoppable in their quest to end crime in Zootopia. Though she would never put her guess to the test…at least, not intentionally.

Chief Bogo wasted no time. "Hopps, I'll be direct."

"Do you know any other way, sir?" It slipped right out. A sharper and more rested Judy would have held it back. Not too damaging, she figured. She hoped it might even pry a chuckle from the Chief's sealed lips.

It didn't. But, actually, it did nothing at all. "There's something we need to discuss. It is urgent."

 _Must really be serious_. To let pass a chance to chide her…. She straightened in her chair, ears held aloft by concern and curiosity.

Only artificial light in this room. Strange then, she thought, how deeply he could cast his shadow over the desk and over her. Yet, even in the sable shadow, his eyes were clear, never blinking, never wavering. With the gravitas she had come to expect from her commanding officer, he said, "Outside…there is a vehicle…double-parked. And it has _no ticket_ on it!"

It took a moment to register. Typically so serious about assigning parking duty. Bogo was already beside himself. A loud laugh. _How unexpected_.

"S-sir?"

A deep and throaty chuckle became a bellicose grumble. "You don't think that's funny, Hopps?" Wisps of levity vanished.

Judy gulped. "N-no sir! I mean, yes it was pretty funny, I guess, in a certain…way…." Bleary eyes struggled to focus on anything in the office that was not Bogo. His desk, with grains of wood running in almost parallel lines. The floor, scuffed in a few places from his heavy gait. Her own paws, which were shuddering under the withering gaze of Bogo — or was it her own tiredness that manifested in persistent twitches?

"Fine. No appreciation for good humor." Judy looked up to a Bogo tapping on his mobile phone. A sizable device for a sizable creature. His brow furrowed as he swiveled a hoof in an intricate pattern to elicit some specific response from his phone. What that would be, Judy was clueless.

"But in all seriousness," he said as one edge of the phone rested against the desk, "why did you miss our last all-team meeting?"

At one point in time, she had concocted a solid answer to that very question. Ever since Nick raised the issue with his inimitable smirk, she had dedicated a lot of brainpower to explaining her trip to the shop for the obsidian dress. And she had reached a reasoned response that just may have swayed her chief.

All gone as she sat in the little plastic chair.

"Sir, really, I—I don't—"

Bogo waved her off, rather too dismissively. Judy wasn't sure whether she should be panicking or analyzing. "Now, Hopps, when you skip meetings, it leaves slack behind. Slack your fellow officers need to pick up for you. And around here, everyone does their share."

He leaned in closely. Judy's fur curled as his hot breath soared from flared nostrils. "Even the mayoral candidates."

Stunned. Flummoxed, even. Judy let some kind of phrase flop out of her mouth, agape in the utter surprise of Bogo's comment. "Wha—? How do you—"

Another deep chuckle. Warmer, though, with only a fleeting hint of menace. "Guess you haven't checked the news recently." From her seat, Judy squinted as Bogo whipped around his phone to reveal her own picture and some ham-fisted headline with a terrible and unrepeatable pun involved. The rest was a press release, simple and plain, with a certain fox's name appended to the bottom as a point of contact. "It seems that when your partner is properly motivated, he can actually file his paperwork."

Her directive on filing had been clear. _Wait until I say so_ , she had practically ordered her campaign manager. Bogo's phone illustrated a clear violation of her directive. Yet, a portion of her was happy that Nick had taken the initiative. Her readiness had climbed and backslid over and again ever since Otterton sprayed carrot purée from his nose and likely ruined that lovely sweater.

At one point, she had neared the summit. Waiting for the limo, Nick had produced a very simple form. A few boxes, a signature line. He had muttered on about it, a formality or something of the like so that she could meet with people and talk about her intentions. And there had been something about him as he had held that paper for Judy to sign. Some sort of confidence, hard to describe but impossible to miss, had him standing taller in her tiny apartment. Quite enthralling…though, in retrospect, she probably should have given the page a real read.

No, Nick certainly did not share those qualms that had dragged her from the top. Her partner was all too eager to assume the locus of control. And she knew that he would take care of her, watch out for her best interests and such. Still….

 _What has he done?_ Her paws rattled. She gripped the side of the plastic chair, begging for solidity. Nick's preemption had resurrected the buzzing doubts that had attacked her in that Tundratown estate. Many voices, many worries, all clamoring for attention. _The money to pay for those forms and fees_ …that surfaced briefly. One of innumerable questions awaiting Nick once Judy was freed from her seat.

"It would have been… _decent_ of you to provide me some notice. But good for you, Hopps."

She almost missed it as she flailed in the torrent of worry. _A compliment_? Apparently, today would shape up to be an extraordinary day.

"Uh, th-thank you, sir. I'm excited for the opportunity."

And as abruptly as it had appeared, Bogo pulled the compliment back behind his typical grimace. "Hmph, I'll bet. Now then — to business."

His hoof travelled in a smooth motion as the phone slid across the desk. Her image was gone, replaced with a grouchy hyena, its distinctively unhappy sneer baring surprisingly well-maintained teeth. Tufts of raggedy and spotted fur poked through a pressed oxford collar and sharp tie, stealing away the elegance of the tailored suit jacket adorning this creature. She caught herself being curious on how close Nick would be to fitting into that jacket.

She put her detective cap on and studied the photo. She could barely retain the image in her mind. Perhaps her detective cap was fitting a little loosely right now. But, she managed quite the probing question. "Who is he?" _A great start, Judy_.

"Kyle Mansoa. Low-level aide for Lionheart back when that administration first took office. Mansoa clung to the right coattails when the… let's call it _transition_ occurred."

Incredible tact from the chief. She cocked her head just slightly and wondered who this Bogo was. Had Lionheart's fall altered something she didn't know about? As chief of the most efficient — and publicly visible — precinct, Bogo would have been privy to some very high-up conversations pre- and post-Lionheart. His word selections would now need to fall under the scrutinizing ears of Judy Hopps. One of those ears, she only now discovered, had lost its support and now flopped dangerously close to an eye.

Bogo had been going on as Judy lost herself in wild thoughts. After she shook her head to reset the wayward ear, she picked back up at, "…so now he's buried somewhere in Lobos' staff. An aide of an aide, something like that."

A sudden stop, and silence descended. Judy tried to comb back through her own mind to discern why the chief had paused. She didn't believe she had missed a question. So, her feet swung limply as she waited.

"Hopps. Are you with me?"

"Oh yes, completely sir! So what does, um, this, eh…."

"Hyena named Kyle Mansoa."

"Right, of course! Mr. Man-soo."

"Man _soa_."

She pursed her lips and made the seemingly wise decision to not talk anymore. A fascinating stain on the wall allowed her to avoid what must have been Bogo's tremendously frustrated stare. A faint whiff of butter and salt floated between the split in the door jamb and teased her twitching nose. Popcorn, most likely. Her stomach rumbled — they weren't carrots, but an acceptable substitute.

The stain on the wall had become boring. She chanced a look at Bogo. Confusion had taken form on his face. An ugly form, at that. His brow was condensing, forming deep furrows that reminded her of freshly plowed carrot fields. Her stomach rumbled again.

"Hopps. Focus."

Direct, commanding. _As expected_. She straightened in her chair. Autonomic response. A bitter undercurrent was spoiling the butter and salt combination. Left to cook a little too long. No doubt one of her fellow officers would soon bound down an aisle, quietly cursing the power level setting on the microwave oven.

"Hopps. I need you back in this room. Now."

And there she was. Bogo had a gift in that voice of his. Misbehaving cadets were usually subjected to it. It had passed by Judy for a while now. No longer, it seemed. Her eyes, lavender and clear.

"This is important. I need to know if you can handle this."

"What do you mean?" Slipped out again. She knew what he meant. Always good to ask, though.

"The workload. If you really plan to run for mayor, I need you to understand the commitment you're making. Because if you choose to do that, and if you still want your job here, I will expect you to get your work done like anyone else. This is a team effort here. We all must operate in unison, as one, for this precinct to be effective."

Motivational speechmaking aside, Bogo made sense. She cleared her throat, noisier than she expected. "Yessir."

He appeared unmoved. His tone flat, he said, "And there is no time — and I have _no patience_ — for anything but the best. Is that clear?"

Repetition seemed smart here. "Yessir."

"So, can you handle this?"

A question she now faced much sooner than she would have preferred. _Thank you, Nick_. She had been weighing these commitments, her mental scale failing to balance time and again. Considered thought was really required. But Bogo needed his answer. She clenched the edge of the chair. And she delivered. "Yessir!"

His chair sighed as tension snapped. "Good. Now then, Mansoa here has disappeared. I want to put you and Wilde on this. You're the best at these kinds of cases, and it needs a resolution. Understood?"

Another compliment from Bogo. _What a special day_. She and her partner did have a knack for locating those who had left behind their entire lives. Especially gratifying work, as Mr. Otterton could attest. She and Nick would be good for this, of that she was sure.

But now, her head swarmed with the rapidly reproducing questions she was queueing for Nick. Little space to consider Mr. Mansoa's predicament. Not a lack of care, just less to go around. Not a good enough answer for Bogo. "Understood, sir. Any places to start?"

"Yes." From a desk drawer rose a hefty stack of papers, their manila covering nearly bursting at its seams. Judy worried they would warp the desk as Bogo released the monstrosity. "He has been gone for seven days. There was a slow news cycle, so his story made it on television. They asked for tips to be sent here. And here they are."

Every fiber of Judy's being tired as she examined the mere thickness of the stack — she would not dare open it yet. For an aide of an aide, Mr. Mansoa seemed quite popular. Enough to garner a fair amount of attention from a busy populace in a massive city. She also wondered how many would be good. She imagined that to be a much smaller stack. But even with the best taking the lead on this...

Her sigh bounced off the front of Bogo's desk as she left the chair. Two paws sandwiched the papers and dragged them off the desk. She huffed as gravity doubled, nearly taking her down and spilling the folder's contents across the scuffed floor. "Yessir, I'll…get to work…sir," she managed between long breaths on her way to the door. She hadn't been formally dismissed, but the mood seemed appropriate.

The door squeaked. "Oh, and Hopps?" Bogo's voice boomed. She paused as he commanded. "Grab some coffee from your desk-mate. You look awful."

Finally, the wherewithal to not blurt out her thoughts. A quiet muttering as she shut the door. "Yep, thank ya, sir. Always appreciated." The door latched. And Judy Hopps went to work.

* * *

 _One part left to go until Chapter 3 is complete! Thanks again for reading._


	8. Chapter 3: Part IV

_A/N: Here's the last Part in Chapter 3! I hope you enjoy. I'm particularly eager to hear your thoughts on the newest cast member joining the tale._

 _Some shout-outs:_

 _My sincere thanks to **winerp** for continuing to proof the story as a beta-reader! His thoughts and suggestions on the story and how it aligns with the world of Zootopia are immensely valuable, and I'm so appreciative of his efforts! And, again, go check out his story, "Change starts with You"!_

 _And a big thank you to **TheCatweazle** , who has agreed to serve as a beta-reader! He has been a whirlwind so far and has brought a critical and focused eye to every word in this story. I'm incredibly thankful for everything he has done. And also give his story, "Hammer to Fall", a good read! (Though you may want to begin with the preceding story, "Now Your Nightmare Comes to Life", to get a fuller sense of the narrative.) _

_Thank you for your reviews and PMs! I use your thoughts as much as I can to inform the development of these pieces. I appreciate the time and effort you give in sharing your opinions with me!_

 _Finally, if you haven't been to the blog "Zootopia News Network" (ZNN), I sincerely suggest you pay it a visit. They share some breathtaking stories, comics and more from artists and authors from around the world. I'm proud to be a new donor to ZNN. They're doing exciting work that I'm happy to support, and it'll be great fun to see it continue to grow!_

 _Thanks for reading ~ Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

Coffee had indeed done the trick. Nick had been reluctant to share his "special stash" of whole beans, grown on the finest farm or whatever — Judy hadn't listened that far. But persistently jabbing her mug into his elbow had finally elicited the appropriate response. And it had been really good coffee.

One cup of strong coffee and a secret hour-long nap — Nick had taken a special delight in covering for her — had helped in restoring Judy's clarity, at least partly. She had returned her attention to Mr. Mansoa. She and Nick had sat at that desk for…she couldn't even say for how long. They read each and every tip, considered it carefully, and tossed it in the trash. Several tips had stemmed from mistaken identity. Especially notable had been the elderly gopher who claimed to have seen Mr. Mansoa in his kitchen cupboard — turns out their missing hyena did bear a passing resemblance to a cereal mascot. And of course, too many prank calls to count. But each one had been meticulously catalogued. In fact, she could have listened to all of them on the phone log database, were she in the mood for another heavy dose of frustration.

There was one recording, though, she had found in the bowels of ZPD's server farm. Quick, fuzzy. Barely enough time for the dispatcher to greet the caller when the gruff voice belted out: "Talk to Lobos. He'll know where Mansoa went."

Thin, so very thin. Nothing of substance, really. Yet, sound advice. And that was why Officers Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde were sitting in two ornate chairs in a reception room, waiting for a rather perky executive assistant to escort them into the mayor's office.

City Hall had undergone major revisions since her last time here. It was barely recognizable. Walls were plainer — but not in any specific way. It just felt blander, devoid of the manic energy that the Lionheart staff had infused into the building's aura. It was still impossibly busy, with creatures of all types and sizes scurrying about. Yet, it lacked the same… _fire_.

Anxious paws tapped her knees while her partner twiddled away on his phone. "More calls," he had said. He had taken on a new tone when he had said it. More determined. Driven by a certain purpose. She wondered if all campaign managers sounded like that. Hearing and seeing it with Nick, though, would require a little adjustment.

"So, Nick, been meaning to ask…." She trailed off, and he put down his phone. "When you submitted the election forms…."

"Oh, the forms? Don't worry about those. Just a _form_ ality." He smirked — was there a joke in there somewhere? Probably, but Judy's eye had been caught by the cover of the book occupying a portion of the nearby coffee table. _Ancient Animalia and Art._ The most recent work published by Arturo Lobos. Its cover was signed in silver ink. Her fears of narcissism suddenly adopted a new perspective.

She returned to Nick. "But I _told_ you to wait."

Nick snorted, exasperation with a hint of glib. "For what? There was no need to hold off on 'em. They don't really mean anything. Just gets the ball rolling — the really good stuff comes later. Plus, the deadline was coming up soon. Didn't want to wait until the last minute, right?"

"When's the deadline?"

Nick spun his wrist, feigning examination of a wristwatch. "Oh, in about…three hours."

"Well then, guess it's not the last minute."

"Exactly. So like I said, nothing for you to worry about."

But Judy was keen to push the issue. She rotated in her chair, which let out an impressively dignified creak as she dug into it. "Even so, how did everyone pick it up so fast? Did you deliver it to the press?"

"Not me."

His answer was quick but reeked of half-truth. She reached over with her paw and covered half his armrest. He pulled back slightly. "Oh, really?"

He stared ahead at a goat panicking over a malfunctioning copier. Shrill beeps broke from the corner, obscuring Nick's clicking tongue. "Must've had an eager beaver of a reporter at the election office."

"Hmm…." Potentially believable, but highly unlikely. _Leaving things to chance…doesn't indicate a good campaign manager._ Rather than leaving it be, she instead paused to think on who Nick would trust with releasing that kind of information. He had made calls without telling her whom he had been calling. His announcement suggested that it had to be someone Nick trusted completely. Someone wily who was able to plant the story for others to pick it up. Someone like….

The goat had cleared a messy paper jam, and the steady hum of printing once again poured from the corner. And she had reached her conclusion. "Y'know, I'd count Finnick as _you_ , too."

He stopped typing on his phone. Only for a few moments, but it was enough to bring a self-assured smirk to Judy's face. "Huh."

As good as a "yes" for Judy. She leaned back in the creaking chair. "I didn't know you still talk to him."

"Sure. Why wouldn't I?"

"Doesn't it bother him that you're a police officer now?"

Snout buried in his phone. "Nah, we're good on that front. Still find time to chat. You know how close we are."

She huffed. "Yeah, thick as thieves."

Pained surprise appeared on Nick's face. Judy was fairly confident he was exaggerating. "Thieves? We would _never_ …."

Judy let a small laugh escape, which cheered up their little corner of the room. "Of course not." She let Nick's chuckle simmer down before she assumed a serious tone. "Wait — to pay for filing, you didn't have Finnick do…something…."

"All completely clean, ma'am." _A little quick with his response_ , Judy thought.

"But where—"

The phone fell away. Emerald eyes glinted as they locked onto Judy whose open mouth had been caught mid-sentence. "Tell ya what. I will _show_ you after we're done here. M'kay?"

The money would be important — Nick had been clear on that. Yet, his evasiveness had Judy wondering, which, given her detective mind, would likely not end well. She took a breath, deep and cleansing. "…okay. Fair enough." A slow surrender on the point, but not without a final volley. "Nick, thank you for handling it…but you can't keep surprising me. We need to be on the same page with this kind of stuff."

The emerald eyes were breathtaking as he scanned her. She sat still, awaiting the snarky comment that was sure to follow. She got it. "Okay, Carrots, you're right. From now on, I'll probably tell you most things. How's that?"

In all likelihood, she probably overreacted. But sitting in that chair, a few steps from the office of the Mayor of Zootopia, something overcame her. Nick, intentionally or not, had pushed the right button. "What! No, that's _terrible_! What I mean is—"

"Mr. Lobos will see you now." The executive assistant's perky voice airily floated past the two chairs. Angry to have been interrupted but eager to chat with Lobos, Judy let her point slide. The officers left their seats and followed a thin sheep along the hallway toward the mayor's office itself. Judy didn't remember this from before, but plastered on the walls were portraits of past mayors. Grim paintings of each of them, depicted in the midst of wearying terms of public service, adorned the walls. One patch of wall was discolored — probably where Lionheart's portrait once hung.

They passed through a set of thick doors. Made from exquisite oak, it was probably quite heavy. Embedded within the panels were intricate carvings of some scene or another — she was not well versed in art. _New additions,_ Judy thought as they crossed to the two chairs waiting at the mayor's desk.

As they neared, she saw that the desk was pristine. No papers strewn about or piles of folders teetering. Only two pens aligned parallel to the edge and a laptop computer angled to precisely align the corners of the computer with the sides of the desk. A twinge of envy flared in Judy.

But, strangely, the desk was devoid of an occupant.

The assistant directed them to the seats and then pivoted. Over her shoulder, she called out, "Mr. Lobos will join you shortly." The heavy oaken doors closed with a bang.

Wide windows lined the wall behind the desk. The view was still as magnificent as ever. Nick unleashed a low whistle and wandered from his seat.

"Nice view from up here."

"Yeah." The air was calm, but stifling. She adjusted the collar of her ZPD blues. "Nick, should I even be here?"

Nick's nose was pressed into the windowpane. Something of great interest was obviously taking place at street level. "Why shouldn't you be here?"

"Well, thanks to you—"

"Finnick."

" _You_. Everyone's gonna know about my run."

He snorted. Fog splashed onto the glass. "That's kinda the plan, Hopps."

"I know that! But, now that we're involving Lobos in this search…I mean, how will it look if I'm in the middle of something that involves my opponent? C'mon, Nick, I'm _standing_ in the center of City Hall!"

He was calm as ever as he turned away from the window and ran a paw along the veneered edge of the desk. "Firstly, you're sitting, not standing. Secondly, nobody will care."

She almost rose from the seat, but her legs had abruptly transformed into jelly. She now realized just how tired her body actually was. The coffee had given her a huge boost, but even still, an undercurrent of weariness was running pretty deeply. Nevertheless, she did manage a scoff for Nick. "Somebody has to care, Nick. I think it could be seen as a serious conflict of interests."

"Eh, maybe. A couple nosier citizens might complain, but most won't pay enough attention. So long as you don't blab to the media about an ongoing investigation. Again."

The stage lights brightened her face once more. The microphone stood passive, waiting for the rehearsed speech she would soon ruin completely. The same tensing fear of addressing that persnickety public at the Night Howler press conference again coursed through her veins while she and Nick waited in the mayor's office.

And as she fretted, she realized that she would need to make addresses like that again. And again. Her stomach clenched. _But now_ , she remembered, _Nick would be there_. Not like last time, hiding in the wings. But with her completely. She allowed a smile to soften her cheeks, even as she berated her partner.

"Way to bring that one back, Nick. But what do you think, really? Should I be on this case?"

With a sigh, Nick retook his chair. Limbs crossed as he unloaded his thoughts. "The way Bogo explained it to me — and I agree with it — is that officially, you were assigned the case before you announced your candidacy. And you are nearly the best at this kind of work — save for yours truly."

She groaned and was about to respond when he put up a paw. He peeked around and, seeing no one, proceeded in a gruff whisper. "Unofficially…when Bogo found out you were running, he wanted to make sure you were on this case. Your candidacy may allow access to some places the ZPD hasn't been able to reach before. Turns out you're not the only one who's noticed the plight of our city's poorest. Bogo's been watching nothing happen for a while, and he thinks something doesn't smell right about all this."

Judy blinked a few times in surprise. Her mind, stimulated by the great coffee Nick had provided, churned through a thousand possibilities which were colliding within her head. She tried to voice at least a few of them. "Doesn't…what? Why—"

"Ah, Ms. Hopps, how good to meet you in person! Your sterling reputation precedes you."

With how Emmitt had portrayed him, Judy had expected Arturo Lobos to be a drooling idiot. Or perhaps a conniving and scheming whelp of a creature. Even after Lionheart had provided her with more background, she was in no way prepared to be greeted by what appeared to be an exceptional wolf.

Finely manicured gray fur, with flecks of mahogany interspersed, sheened in the city sunlight as he crossed the room from the heavy oaken doors. He was slightly taller and built more heavily than most wolves — his outfit had seams that had clearly been tailored for an unusual size. He tugged on the cuff of his tweed jacket and wrangled the black turtleneck underneath into form. Judy met his bespectacled eyes — congenial, but probing, searching for something. A short but potent chill crept up her spine.

After their first pawshake, she could tell why he had been selected as an emergency manager. A confident smile, flashing — but not baring — sharp canine teeth. He moved with the confidence of a seasoned orator, filling the room with his mere presence. His voice, a melodious tenor, warmed the very walls and held a certain enrapturing quality. Judy found it incredibly difficult to disengage from him.

After a few seconds, she finally managed. "Thank you, Mr. Lobos." Officially, Lobos was not the mayor. Nick had truly been helpful in explaining it to Judy. According to him, the emergency manager was working from this office and held very similar powers to a mayor. But in actuality, Lobos was a mere placeholder, simply using the office until the election. Though, to Judy, he seemed like a fine placeholder.

"And Mr. Wilde — I've been following _your_ career with great interest! A pleasure to have you here."

"Charmed," Nick grumbled. Judy wished her campaign manager would show a tad more pep. It had taken Nick quite a lot of effort to come around to wolves in general. Moving away from his preconceived notion of wolves being "dumb-dumbs" had taken a great deal of time— and some fine fellow ZPD officers acting as exemplars. Nowadays, his opinion on wolves had improved significantly. Nevertheless, he still didn't really like them all that much.

"So, Ms. Hopps," Lobos opened as he eased into a really quite exquisite chair, "I suppose I should say: Welcome back! If I remember correctly, you paid my predecessor a visit a time or two."

"That's right, yes. And, you know, it looks like you've made some design changes since then."

"Oh, yes! Now, the staff decorated most of the floor; I must say I was a bit disappointed in their selections. But, this old mayor's office is my little domain. And it felt far too _clinical_. I like the oak. It brings warmth to the place."

Small talk. It was easy for Judy to switch friendliness on — a trait her kind parents had bestowed upon her. This hardly seemed to be the proper time for inane banter though. An investigation was afoot, after all. Still, she played her part. "I imagine art can do that to a room — those doors are impressive."

Judy noticed Lobos's mouth opening just a hair further and his body leaning forward, elbows planted on the desk. A soft and metronomic patter arose from the back of his chair. _Thump-thump-thump_. It took Judy a moment to realize it was Lobos's tail wagging. "You have an interest in art?"

A passing fancy would have been fairer. Nothing to write a book about, at least. "Well I, uh, saw your book out front…." She sounded a little more bashful than she had intended.

Lobos leaned back into his chair. "That, yes, I see. I just left that out there for a friend. A former student of mine, actually. He's completing his dissertation on the functionary roles art played in forming ancient species-based cluster groups."

Lobos paused. He then inhaled sharply, as if preparing to unload a semester's worth of knowledge once Judy asked. But, with a polite nod, Judy completely ignored his jargon and her curiosity and directed the conversation elsewhere. "You used to teach?"

That pushed him onto a better track. "I still do! I've been a professor for…oh, how many years, I don't know. But I'll tell you, Ms. Hopps, there's nothing quite like seeing a student understand a concept for the first time. There's a moment where their eyes just — just light up. And they _get it._ It's, ah, the most thrilling feeling in the world."

 _Odd how genuine Lobos sounds_ , Judy thought. It was refreshing, actually. Judy spent so much of her day wading through half-baked lies and excuses —the worst ones being the many creative reasons people gave as to why they had failed to pay their parking meter. To have such vibrant honesty, and from a politician…Judy shook her mind back into focus and took the reins. "So, how did you find your way in here then? Pretty far off from the classroom."

"Hah! Ah, indeed, Ms. Hopps. I do miss having more time for my students. But, I am a lover of culture. A culture that is expressed in art, music, theatre, writing, even the very buildings we choose to construct around ourselves. Our city is simply _filled_ with it!"

Judy's mind suddenly plummeted as she tried to think of something cultural to bring up. She was sure all kinds of arts and culture and whatnot were all around her. But, her job demanded her full attention. She did allow herself a few breaks for enjoyment though — but she doubted Lobos spoke of the Gazelle album on her phone when he mentioned culture.

Judy realized that Lobos had continued on, and she happily stayed quiet. "Some time ago, there was some rezoning work being done in many of the districts. There were some really wonderful historic buildings that were… _impeding_ new construction. Made a lot of citizens quite angry, on both sides. Some wanted new and shiny buildings for their neighborhoods, others desired the older charm."

Lobos squinted as he reminisced. Still, his eyes were no less piercing as Judy listened. "Historic architecture is very interesting to me. My main focus is art itself, but architecture is an art form in its own right. Beautiful, thoughtful, it can add to the ethos of a city and —oh, I guess that's a conversation for another time. Anyway, when they asked me to oversee the protection efforts for some of Zootopia's finest and most memorable structures, I had to do it."

He chuckled. An inviting tone, very encouraging. Judy ended up snickering with him for no particular reason. "Guess they liked the work I did. Saved the buildings, got construction running, and came in under budget."

For a few moments, Judy's mind clung to _under budget_. _An interesting choice of words_ , she thought. Shiny buildings were fine, and she was glad to hear history had been preserved. But what had been the actual costs of his plan? There had been a cost in dollars, certainly; yet, there had been a cost in lives like the little lynx stealing bread for his mother. Had Lobos factored _that_ into his calculus? She felt herself slipping into a hole. _Focus, Hopps_ , her detective mind commanded.

"Mr. Lionheart had been involved in my initial appointment," Lobos continued, "and we worked together on a few buildings that had caught his attention. After that challenge ended, he wanted to get me a seat on his cabinet. They didn't have a slot for me, so he crafted some ad hoc committee and put me in charge."

With a breathy grunt, Lobos rose from his chair. _Towering_ , Judy thought as he stood full-height, almost lording over the two seated officers. He paused for a moment, then he turned and ambled toward the window. "But once he was gone, and his deputy, too…the departures of Lionheart and Bellwether did not leave much faith in any installed public servant. There were many who were practically apoplectic when the thought arose of promoting a member of the Lionheart administration to fill his old post."

He leaned back against the window, the city a panorama behind him. His paw scrabbled at a fold in the turtleneck. "I suppose it is fortunate that I seem to have escaped that stigma. They named me emergency manager for as long as necessary until they could figure out how precisely to stage an election. And so here I am."

She could not count her questions for him. The starry eyes she had been sporting at the outset had cleared as Lobos regaled them with his tale. An active mind had then been set to task. But her questions diverged, split into two warring factions. The officer wanted to know his role with Mansoa and what details he could be hiding. The candidate wanted to know what his buildings had done for creatures like Martin. And who had been the mammals who had named him the manager. The battle in her mind raged as Lobos completed his pacing and sat.

The skirmish in her head happened in a matter of moments, though it felt eternal to her. But, one side did emerge victorious. She cleared her throat. "Well, thank you for that, sir. So, we certainly don't want to keep you. We're sure you're very busy and have plenty of meetings after us. But, we'd like to ask you a few questions about someone who works in your office."

"Of course! Who—"

"Kyle Mansoa." It took her a moment, but she soon realized that Nick had spoken for the first time since they had begun. He had stayed completely silent, save for his chair's squeak as he fidgeted. His comment had been terse; Judy caught the surprise flash across Lobos's bespectacled eyes. Nick usually had a wilier way of getting what he wanted. The tactic change had to be a symptom of boredom, obviously…or was something else guiding him?

"Oh, Kyle." Lobos hummed, a paw buttressing his chin. "Yes, I've worked with him directly several times. Diligent, very dedicated to his work. I remember hearing he hasn't been in office recently. Every one of us is worried about him, you know."

"I'm sure." It appeared that Nick couldn't resist lobbing a touch of bitterness at Lobos. For some reason, restraint obviously wasn't the way Nick wanted to play this. She used her foot to deliver a small but firm kick to the leg of his chair. If he was fazed by it, he didn't show it.

But, it did accomplish its goal. His whole body relaxed, sunk back into his seat. Judy continued. "It's interesting, sir, that you said you remembered hearing about his disappearance. See, we received a tip that you may have information on where he is. Would you care to share everything you know?"

 _Blunt and direct_ , Judy figured. They could be shooed from the office at any given moment, and she did not wish to miss her opportunity. Through her peripheral vision, Judy noticed the start of a classic Nick smirk. Perhaps an approval of her method.

"Oh, I don't know how much help I can be. Like I said, I merely knew him fleetingly. Have you considered asking my staff about—"

"They're next." Judy's turn to interrupt. It felt like the temperature in the room was suddenly dropping by a few degrees, but in her ZPD blues, Judy still felt comfortable. She narrowed her eyes looking at Lobos, unleashing the lavender stare that had broken all types of criminals. "But for now, sir, I'd like you to tell me everything you know."

To be fair, Lobos had the look of a concerned employer down pat. However, the honesty from before almost vanished. His eyes bounced between the corners of the room. With the light of the city illuminating his back, Judy could plainly see the twitch manifest in one of his ears. The thump of his tail had disappeared. This all unfolded in a fraction of a second, but expertly honed senses gathered every detail. _Really good coffee, Nick._

"You know…" Lobos said, "I do recall him talking once about a favorite place in the Rainforest District. He didn't live there — at least, I don't believe he did — but there was a watering hole out there. What was its name?"

A long hum from Lobos. Judy nearly fell from her seat, dragged to the floor by anticipation. Patience fled. "Sir? The name was…what?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I can't remember. Do ask my assistant, though, on your way out. I remember checking it out last month or so. She'll probably have it on my calendar. Kyle used to brag about spending a few days at a time in that place — I think he had a bit of a weakness for locales like that."

"You seem to know him quite well then, sir." Judy was on the offensive.

Lobos retreated slightly. "Like I said, just in passing, really. We sometimes exchanged a few words when we were reviewing building plans or writing up proposals. Little things like that. Other than that, I'm not really certain what else I can offer."

But Judy knew. "Sir, tell me more about—"

"Mr. Lobos?" That perky voice again. The executive assistant broke in over the laptop's speakers. "The Infrastructure Advisory Committee is gathering in the interior conference room."

"Ah, thank you, Cynthia," he talked to the air. The intercom, built into the laptop, was obviously activated all the time. Judy wondered how long the executive assistant had been listening in.

It was a frustrating, but effective bailout. "I am so sorry to end our time together. Please work with Cynthia on any further questions. And feel free to ask my staff about whatever you'd like. We wish to bring Kyle home safely very much."

Her mind shouted in hunger, demanding to be fed more answers. But, her mouth acted as a diplomat. "Very well then. Thank you for your time, Mr. Lobos. We'll contact you if we need anything else."

With precise movements, Nick and Judy rose in sync from their chairs. The closing pawshake was friendly enough. But, Judy's paw passed over a fine film of perspiration. Lobos's pads were slightly wet. To get him to sweat….

Lobos seemed to pay no heed to his damp paw as the officers pivoted toward the door. As they crossed the room, Lobos's voice followed them. "Of course! And Ms. Hopps, I am looking forward to more conversations with you on the future of Zootopia!"

She turned back and planted her heels into the odd flooring. She hadn't paid attention before, but the hardwood-like substance felt a little springy as she came to a halt. "What's that, sir?"

"Your candidacy, Ms. Hopps. That news has reached these hallowed halls." He let out a small and slightly unnerving chuckle. A dash of…competitiveness, maybe, was also thrown into the mix. "I'm eager to bring our thoughts before the citizens of Zootopia. It should be a strong and interesting campaign season."

She smiled. Friendly, as warm as this room had been upon entry. But beneath it lay the hint of an edge. A competition was indeed underway. "You are correct, Mr. Lobos. And I look forward to it as well."

Nick let the doors seal shut before he spoke again. "Oh yeah. It'll be a real treat."

Judy gave a real grin. "Yep." They started walking. "Before we leave, let's stop by Cynthia's desk."

Nick grumbled his assent. As the pads of their feet plodded along the cold floor, Judy watched Nick. The dampened swing in his limbs. More shuffling in his gait. Hunching over, just a tad. He had stood so straight ever since she had pinned the ZPD badge to his chest.

"You okay, Nick?"

Immediately, Nick rectified every slouch and shuffle. _Curious_ , Judy thought as the smirk returned to his face a few steps from Cynthia's desk.

"Yep. Just can't wait until you beat him."

 _#_

* * *

 _Thanks again for reading! Chapter 4 will begin soon. Best, Euphonemes_


	9. Chapter 4: Part I

_A/N: Finally, the next part is here! It went through a few rewrites, which took some time. And I was sick for most of last week :/, which slowed me down a bit. But we're back in business, and I hope you enjoy the part!_

 _My sincere thanks again to **winerp** and **TheCatweazle** for their outstanding work proofing this piece. They both do excellent work on all fronts; I cannot recommend them highly enough!_

 _A special thanks as well to **nota999** (author of "The Campaign" - a great read!) for thoughts and suggestions on how to address the political content in this chapter! We'll get more into that content in later parts, but I appreciate the initial feedback._

 _And thank you to all you readers and reviewers! I'm grateful for the time you spend with me in this tale and for your thoughts and ideas._

 _Also: I'm finishing up a one-shot Zootopia story, and I could use some help creating a great cover image. If you have a recommendation for a good commission artist (or if you're an artist yourself) who specializes in Zootopia work, please feel free to send me a PM. I'd appreciate it!_

 _Enjoy! ~ Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

"Where are we going, Nick? We have work to do."

Nick looked overjoyed as he slammed on the car's accelerator. The engine thrummed obediently, and Nick and Judy were catapulted to the head of a line of cars marching along a street. Out of the corner of an eye, she saw Nick's paw dance around the switch for the police siren. She batted it away.

"C'mon Hopps, just for a second."

"It's only for emergencies, Nicholas."

"As far as you know, this _is_ an emergency."

A loud "Hmph!" was all she could manage before Nick swerved to zip between a few slower cars in the pack. One of her long ears flopped across her face. As she straightened the appendage with one paw, she began pummeling Nick's forelimb with the other.

Her blows were rather soft. Her tone was not. "Tell me where we're going, Nick! Now!"

Nick laughed. "Patience, my dear overeager partner."

He never seemed fazed as Judy's paw laid into him. Eventually, she tuckered out and opted for a more peaceful approach toward conversation.

"Still don't feel like talking about it?"

"About what?"

"You know what."

"Nope." It was peaceful, but equally ineffective.

A full day would not loosen Nick's tongue regarding his shortness of replies in the meeting with Lobos. After they had left City Hall to begin their search, he had perked right back up: an excited and willing model cop. His tail had actually started a little wag, too. But, below that pleasant surface was some issue nettling her partner; Judy had worked with him too long not to notice.

Perhaps he secretly shared her doubts? Their investigation so far revealed nothing of substance on Mansoa's disappearance. Lobos's tip had led them to a dead end; the Rainforest District held no answers for them. Nick and Judy tried to expand their search, combing through Mansoa's life: financial and phone records, and internet profiles. It all turned up empty.

And their investigation had also been frequently interrupted by nagging reporters, news stories and endorsements, all working towards driving Judy mad with garrulous speculation. After her announcement, Judy and her camp remained tight-lipped on their plan. This led many in the press to write that she had no plan whatsoever. _Not entirely true_ , she mentally scolded several news sites while she sat at her desk and watched as yet another lead on Mansoa disintegrated.

The plan was in progress. Yet, it was getting difficult to deny the strain being placed on Judy and her partner. Building a platform, determining campaign strategy, and solving a disappearance with almost no evidence — it would be too much to ask from many of ZPD's finest. But she had told Bogo she could handle it, and she had every intention to keep her word. Even so, coffee and naps could only take her so far.

Nick's eyes lacked the same bags that drooped below hers. She wondered how he slept so well. _Does he even sleep?_ Maybe he simply buried the exhaustion of managing this campaign's birth. She had observed Nick whittling away his phone's battery deep into the night. A great many things must have been occupying the fox's time.

But in this car, she only wanted to know one thing. "I wish you'd tell me what's bothering you about Lobos…but you won't. Right?"

The stoplight had been red for fifteen seconds, which probably felt like an eternity to Nick. While they waited, he busied himself with the window controls. The wind had picked up, and so a loud _whoosh_ accompanied the lowering window. Air currents tousled the fur behind Nick's ear; it was messy, but somehow appropriate for the fox. He lowered and rolled up the window twice more before the light changed and he answered his partner. "It's that important to you?"

"Nick. I know it's important to you. So it's important to me."

The engine purred. The drag of acceleration was easing off of Judy's chest. Nick sighed. "Okay. Fine. You see, it's just that — oops! Our turn!"

A fast paw stopped Judy's face from meeting the window.

Nick couldn't quit laughing as they rolled onto a nicely maintained side street; Judy ended up snagging the wheel for two blocks before he recovered. "Sorry there, Fluff. Just couldn't help it."

Strangely, some part of her believed that. She wore her grouchiest grimace as she relinquished the wheel. "You are… _mean_."

"You're probably right." His smirk was strong as his paws glided across the steering wheel. "But really, don't worry about Lobos. Pretty soon, you'll be booting him right outta that fancy chair of his."

She had belabored the point. For the moment, she decided to let off of Nick. A tiredness crept into her voice as she slouched a bit in the passenger seat. "I don't know, Nick. Lobos is so…he's so _smart_."

"And you're not?"

Judy showed honest surprise. _Was that a compliment?_ "You think I'm smart?"

"Hopps, you're, like, the third or fourth smartest rabbit I know…or maybe fifth. But definitely no lower than sixth!"

 _Yep, quite a compliment._ "Thanks, Nick."

She could feel the car slowing as Nick ignored her sarcasm. "Anytime…ah, here we are!"

Had she not been so distracted, Judy would likely have picked up the familiarity of the trail. She would have noticed the same streetlamps overhead, all turned off while the noonday sun shone. It had been the exact route as before — her three alternates still unused. She pressed her nose to the slightly chilled glass and exhaled.

"Emmitt's house?"

In the daylight, the Otterton residence glowed with a certain homeliness. Mrs. Otterton had used a practiced hand to apply a coating of quaintness to the exterior. _A mother's touch_ , Judy thought as she rubbed a paw against the dark screen of the phone hiding in her pocket.

Her parents were overjoyed to hear from her last night. She had stolen away a few minutes by quickly wrapping up a particularly lame tip on Mansoa. Mom and Dad had both been supportive, even though she had lost track of how many times her father had said, "Oh, I don't know about that." It was difficult trying to explain, and she had only wanted to rest her eyes at that moment. But, their voices were still bubbly, just like she always remembered. Digging back into the Mansoa case had been a little easier after she hung up.

"Out ya go, Carrots. Like you said, we have work to do."

Her moment of wonder dissipated like the fog she left on the window. "Every time, Nick," Judy grumbled as she popped open the car door.

The lawn was certainly less populated than their last visit. With the lawn evacuated, Judy could spot the areas of trampled grass and divots left behind by overexcited partygoers. She easily maneuvered past the geraniums she hadn't seen before but paused by the front door.

"Nick, I'm glad you asked Emmitt to be a part of this campaign. He's a great pick, and I know he'll do wonderful things. But headquartering the campaign at his house seems…excessive."

She drew a little smile from him. It was genuine; he had worn it earlier when he disclosed Emmitt's new role. Judy believed that Nick was actually excited to have a new team member, someone to share the burden. But, she was hoping that Nick wasn't asking too much so soon. Luckily, he assuaged that concern. "It was his idea, partner."

Nick pushed on the door, and it opened quietly. And he and Judy entered the fray.

It was as if the flurry of activity from Emmitt's party had never ceased. Dozens of animals of all shapes and sizes rushed around. Some carried phones, others carted some kinds of paper materials. She ducked as a stag nearly flattened her with a row of blank tee shirts hanging from his antlers.

As she passed through the rest of the house, she found a bank of laptop computers stationed along the edge of the kitchen island. The heady scents of carrot purée tickled her nose when she entered; it was only a memory from the party before, but it was still just as powerful.

Nick wore a broad grin. Perhaps he was savoring the awed expression Judy was failing to mask.

"All of this…for me?"

Nick made a grandiose sweep with his forelimb, passing over the various stations loaded with animals of all types. "Indeed. Welcome to your Campaign HQ."

Judy required a moment for Nick's words to register. "No way." She first tried to deny it, even as she plucked a flyer from a stack of several hundred set by the kitchen entrance. Her visage, the proud and excited headshot from her first day at ZPD, was printed with fine ink on high-gloss paper. _Judy Hopps for Mayor_ was written in bold red and blue.

"Hey, it's Judy!"

And suddenly, everything stilled. The many eyes that had been viewing computer screens or monitoring inkjet printers all landed on her. The clicks and whirrs of the devices chattered away unabated, but a hush fell over the campaign volunteers as they awaited a word from Candidate Hopps.

The bunny on the flier was clear-eyed, sharp and ready for anything. The bunny standing in front of dozens of volunteers was a little less so. For what it was worth, she did try. "H-hi everyone! It's, uh, great to see y'all here!" _Aw shucks_ , she almost added. The silence persisted. "Thanks for, um, everything you're doing! It's…it's…."

"Ah, Judy! There you are."

A rush of relief flooded over Judy as Emmitt Otterton navigated through the crowd. He wore the same sweater from his party. Curiously, it was missing the purée stain that absolutely should have been on there. _Well done, Mrs. Otterton._

"Alright everyone, back to work! Don't you all stare at our candidate; she'll have plenty to say to the group in a bit. Let her relax first." It was almost like magic: Otterton waved, and the house came alive. The mad scramble resumed as if nothing had happened.

Judy sidestepped a few awkward glances and reached her savior. "Thank you, Mr. Otterton."

"Emmitt, Judy, _please_ call me Emmitt."

Her paw cradled her forehead. "I'm sorry, I remember. I'm just a little…."

"Overwhelmed?"

She offered a sheepish grin. Emmitt chuckled and asked her to follow him to the familiar stools situated at the kitchen island. This kitchen was much more crowded than when Judy and Emmitt had demolished the soufflé and purée; yet, it had felt a little cozier without a herd of animals regarding her with an odd look or a little more distance.

She tried gathering her bearings as she hoisted herself onto the stool. "Well, uh…Emmitt. First, thank you for being a part of this campaign."

Emmitt almost looked uncomfortable as he accepted her gratitude. "I appreciate that, but please, Judy, there's no need to thank me."

"Oh, I think there is!" Her enthusiasm seemed to put the nervous otter at ease. That would be important, since Judy had many questions that needed answers. Her head was treading water, and she found it tough to give form to her thoughts. "So, how did you get all of this together so quickly? Was it, um, just you or…." She floundered.

Emmitt smoothly picked it up. "Your partner, actually. Nick has a way about getting his way. He was really polite, truth be told, when he asked me. And I was a soft sell.

"So, once I accepted, Nick gave me a pretty lengthy list of potential volunteers. And I already had some in mind. I just started making calls, sending emails — really, just taking the time to ask. And honestly, I don't think I heard a single 'No.' I also have to admit, it's kinda fun to manage these volunteers. I think Nick was starting to feel a little harried. Having some others on the ground always helps, and I'm happy to do what I can."

As she scanned the room and examined the mobilized volunteer force Emmitt and Nick had brought together, a warm glow fired up in her belly. Each animal was working hard; a few glistened with sweat from their efforts. _All of this…for me?_ She let her paw fall onto Emmitt's forelimb. "Thank you for lending us your home, Emmitt. It really does mean a lot."

He rapped his paw on the counter. "Oh, I'm just excited this house of mine can be put to good use." Then he pulled back a bit. "But…and I don't want to sound immodest here…." Judy wondered if that were even possible for unassuming Mr. Otterton. "But it didn't stop at just the location for campaign headquarters."

She had a sense of where he was going, but she asked her question anyway. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know those elections forms can be expensive to file, and I know you were in need of a little start-up capital…."

And unassuming Mr. Otterton surprised Judy again. Her mouth fell open, and lavender eyes were glued to a bashful otter who was turning out to be quite instrumental to her nascent campaign. "Oh, _Emmitt_. How?"

His smirk bore an uncanny resemblance to Nick's. "I told you, Judy. Book deals can be _quite_ lucrative."

She scoffed. It was not intended to be rude; she hoped Emmitt could tell as much. The shock of it all forced out the noise. Nick had told her Emmitt was helping out with some cash, but she hadn't appreciated the scale of that assistance until now. Her mind went blank for the blink of an eye, and then the detective gears engaged. Concerns rushed in; she picked the most pressing one. "Please tell me you're not the only one who's putting _money_ into this! I couldn't ask that of you."

"Oh no, of course not! I told you before: There are a great many of us who support you, Judy. Did you forget all of that already?"

The purée had been of great assistance in clouding her memory. Her throat was suddenly parched as she struggled to answer Emmitt. "Uh…ahem, no, sorry, it's just been a busy time. Yeah, that's it!"

"Of course, Judy, of course!"

 _Emmitt is far too nice_. Fortunately, Nick had wandered off into the fog of ozone hovering over the printers. She doubted he would have shown as much mercy.

"Now here," Emmitt continued, "everyone is a proud donor to 'Judy Hopps for Mayor'. And there's many more online. Come see."

He slid over a free computer and fired up the internet browser, already bookmarked on her campaign page. _I have a campaign page_ , her brain iterated. With the Mansoa investigation underway, Judy only had time to answer Nick's request for a few biographical pieces; she had trusted the website would turn out fine. And in this stool, she was still sure the website looked lovely; however, the thrill of it all overtook her senses. The world seemed to slow down. She felt like floating as Emmitt walked her through comment after comment and donor after donor.

 _Thank you, Judy!_

 _Way to go, Judy!_

 _First Night Howlers, now the Mayor's Office. Go get 'em, Judy!_

"Yes, a lot of Night Howler comments. You made quite the impression with that." Emmitt was talking as he scrolled. "So I was thinking we could put up a livestream with some scenes from HQ here — to give viewers that up close and personal feel," he said from somewhere far away. Judy felt like drifting into the clouds to watch everything unfold from the sky.

 _All of them here for me_. It was surreal. The flurry of activity, the many paws and hooves creating everything, it all touched her. A swell of something — not pride, no, something sweeter and warmer… _determination_. It filled her very soul with an energy, as rich and potent as her feelings on the first day at her ZPD desk.

Something touched her, and she found herself back on her stool again. His paw was warm as he helped her down from the stool. Back on the ground, Judy studied Emmitt Otterton. The tufts of fur still poked out of his sweater's cuffs. Bespectacled eyes were wary as she took a shaky step.

"Judy, are you okay?"

She brought herself back to the room. Emmitt's brow was furrowed, his concern evident. She smiled. "I am, thank you. What else can you show me?"

He perked up. "Right this way."

They strode through his house, covering several stations. The stag was printing Judy's face and a catchy slogan on those blank tee shirts. He seemed ready to swoon as the candidate walked by. Machines hummed in an exquisite harmony as they did their work.

"Oh, how is that missing person case proceeding?"

Judy was lost in the noise of her headquarters; Mr. Otterton needed to repeat his question. "Hmm? Ah, sorry sir. It's…proceeding."

Her tone flattened, and Emmitt probably noticed. He took it easy on her. "That's good. The missus and I have been following it on the news. Just dreadful. Of course, I'm in a unique position when it comes to knowing about kidnappings."

Judy figured he meant that to be mirthful and joined him in a polite smile _._ _I guess you would understand…._ When Emmitt had been taken, Judy had worked tirelessly to bring him home. Every thought, every action, every part of her had been dedicated toward a single goal. She had made a promise to the tearful otter standing before her, and she had kept it.

The Otterton case had been as frustrating as Mr. Mansoa's was proving to be. Yet, she couldn't shake the sense that she was approaching them very differently. Thoughts of popcorn (which she did end up finding — a bag had been abandoned in the break room) and other trivia slipped easily into her mind; it complicated her efforts to learn about Mr. Mansoa.

And the demands of the campaign were already high. Soon, now that she had officially announced, there would be much more to handle. Already, the specter of exhaustion haunted her at her desk, the cold steel singing a sweet siren song. She gave so much of herself to the Otterton case, but many more hands were now asking for a piece. _What's left for Mr. Mansoa?_

She nearly ran into Emmitt as he stopped at the cluster of printers. Nick was a few paces away, deep in conversation. Emmitt lovingly ran a paw over one of the bulky devices. "Now Judy, these are no ordinary printers. They're high-capacity, high-gloss, pretty much the best you can get. See that badger talking to your partner over there? He runs a small print shop. When we asked him, he practically tossed us the printers and supplies."

He went on at length about the printers. She nodded along with any changes in his inflection, but in an effort to escape her thoughts, she had committed to gazing at Nick. His chat with the badger seemed to be proceeding swimmingly. There erupted several loud guffaws, and Judy observed the exchange of a few pawshakes. Nick brimmed with confidence, though that wasn't terribly unusual.

They stood by a spotless windowpane, and sunlight poured through the opening. The golden rays settled on top of the deep blue of Nick's ZPD uniform. His aura was bright as he smiled, his teeth reflecting the light. His eyes flicked over to Judy, and his ear twitched. Her eyes fell away while a soft smile lifted her cheeks.

"So there's plenty more, Judy, but I think this is enough for the time being."

 _Emmitt_. She found the otter, who had shown incredible patience and grace while Judy let her mind wander all over the place. Her paws twitched, and she embraced him. "Thank you! Oh, just, _thank you_!"

Perhaps she had caught him unawares. Mr. Otterton shared a kind chuckle before he pulled away. "It's my pleasure, Judy. Now, please feel free to take in the sights for a bit. I'll come get you in a few minutes to go through some more."

Emmitt hadn't even taken five steps when the call came. "Hopps, come here for a sec." Nick beckoned with an outstretched paw. The badger had since returned to his station and was instructing two ink-stained volunteers on proper paper preparation techniques.

When she reached his spot by the window, she took his paw. It was familiar — comforting —as he dragged her over to a corner. With the clacking of the printer jets, little of their talk would escape from this area. _Private_.

"So, Carrots, whad'ya think?"

She didn't know where to start and told Nick in her own way. "Uh, I…."

"Glad you like it." She was mildly annoyed that Nick could read her so clearly, especially when her own thoughts hid in the shadows of the corner. He knew as much and flashed his teeth to communicate it.

Even without his golden aura, Nick and his sharp ZPD blues were stunning. Occasionally, she missed the tacky shirt and loosened tie; but, here and now, there was nothing better.

She was about to say this to Nick before a thought of consequence finally emerged. "This is great. But how did you get all these people to _pay_ you? We _just_ announced this. Emmitt started to talk about it, but really…how?"

Nick shrugged. And in that dark corner, Judy vowed to beat Nicholas Wilde the next time he brought forth that shrug. "I asked. You'd be surprised what you can get when you ask."

She completely agreed with Nick and decided to try it out for herself. "Okay. And now that I think about it…where did _your_ money go?"

"What money?"

"Y'know…." The gap between them narrowed. " _The pawpsicle money_ ," she finished in a whisper.

"No idea what you're talking about." He accompanied his subterfuge with a shrug.

Judy's paw moved of its own accord. She was rather close to Nick, enough to ensnare a few lingering scents. He had freshened up at some point: shampooed fur, dry-cleaned suit, a dab of cologne — a mid-range brand named Call of the Wild, a fitting choice for him. It was a rather delectable combination, especially fragrant as it flew from Nick's body when her paw slammed into him.

"Ouch!" He actually looked wounded as he rubbed his shoulder. "What was _that_ for?"

"You oughta know." She put on her best impression of scorn. It expertly hid her overflowing gratitude. She wished she could tell him — everyone — how thankful she felt while standing there in the Otterton house. But, she wasn't exactly sure where to begin.

Nick had some thoughts. "I'm not even sure where to take that, so I'm going to ignore you." His nose crinkled in the funny way it did when he lied so blatantly. "For now, Candidate Hopps, we have work to do. Firstly, to let you know: you got an invite today."

"Oh?"

From a shirt pocket, Nick produced an ivory-colored invitation. She had regarded the Otterton note as fancy; this one was in a class all its own. She ran her paw along the gilded edges and embossed calligraphy. "A fete of grand proportions" was written in barely legible squiggles along the top. She found her name, rendered in the purest of black inks, an address in a part of Zootopia she had never dreamed of visiting, and a date and time — the end of this week, late in the evening.

One key fact was missing. Judy was sure to notice its absence. "Who's it from?"

"An aficionado of political revue."

Her eye twitched as it fell away from the invite. "Huh?"

"That's what the envelope said. Fortunately, it seems our friend here has never heard of something called _the_ _internet_. We'll have their name soon from the address; our crack team is on the case." Judy followed Nick's forelimb to the odd collection of goat, capybara and alpaca arguing by the laptop bank.

Judy was unimpressed, though she didn't mean to say so aloud. "So I should just prepare for the worst?"

Nick tried to pretend her words were injurious. He couldn't stop the laugh in time. "Absolutely. But the party should be a good time. It'll be an excellent chance to meet some of Zootopia's power players, too. And you can bring a 'plus one.' Wonder who you'll choose…."

Judy so wanted to wipe the sly smirk from Nick's face. "How about my dad?"

That did the trick. Nick worked his best to play it cool. "Now, nothing against Stu, he's a fine and upstanding rabbit. Probably great company. But I think you need to be a little more _strategic_ in your selection, yeah?"

Her chin rested on her paw. She stared into Nick's emerald eyes as they glimmered. Or did they dim? "I'll be thinking about it."

He tugged at the sleeves of his uniform and made a show to dust off his lapels. Judy restrained her laugh. "Right, so while you're mulling that over, Carrots, let's talk a little more about what I mean by strat—"

"Judy!" Emmitt's voice rose over the din of the printers. "C'mon, everybody's waiting to hear from you!"

Her heart sank into her oblong feet. Once more, the eyes of the many volunteers studied her. Hiding in the corner, she abruptly and thoroughly regretted teasing Nick.

To Emmitt, she shouted, "Okay, I'll be right there!"

To Nick, she grumbled, "Oh I…I don't know what to say…."

Suddenly, she could feel each strand of fur rise on the small of her back as a paw landed there. It emanated the same confidence as its owner. Nick leaned in and tickled the tiny hairs around her long ears. "Make me your 'plus one,' and I'll tell you what to say."

A great blend of confusion, trepidation and excitement bubbled in her gut. His paw applied just the right amount of pressure. An airiness overtook her. With less resignation than expected, she replied. "Fine."

"Great. Then it's a date."

"Wha…?" _Smooth, Judy_. He was kidding; he had to be kidding. But the paw on her back felt so certain. She wanted to let it churn through her mind and try to make sense of it. Reality, however, had other plans. She was rudely awakened by a looming speech. "Hey wait — what do I say to all of them?"

Her own mind was a torrent, but all Nick showed was his typical smirk. His calmness was mildly annoying. "You know exactly what to say, Hopps. Just get in there and say it."

And Nick's shove sent her toward the kitchen and her mind drifting into the clouds again. But this time, she would not only watch from above. _All of them here for me…aw shucks._

* * *

 _Stay tuned for more of Chapter 4! Thanks for reading ~ Euphonemes_


	10. Chapter 4: Part II

_A/N: Some points of gratitude:_

 _My deep thanks to **winerp** and **TheCatweazle** for their great work in proofing this story. Their feedback has been tremendous!_

 _In this part, we'll see more of the politics emerge; thanks to_ ** _nota999_** _for guidance and thoughts there._

 _Thank you to reviewers like **Berserker88** , **Omnitrix 12** , **HawkTooth** , and **jeffhoward78.** Your feedback is so valuable, and I take to heart everything you have to offer!_

 _And thank you to all of you who read this story. It's been a lot of fun writing this; I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am._

 _Also: This story was featured on ZNN recently (for which I am super excited and incredibly humbled). If you've never checked out the site, go take a look at some of the amazing content on there. It's a hub of inspiration and a great place to share passions for all things Zootopia. _

_Please enjoy this next part of "Run!" ~ Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

"You sure you know where we're going, Nick?"

"Relax: I'm an expert navigator."

"Uh huh."

In an ill-advised effort to avoid traffic, Nick had parked the car blocks away from their first stop. The duo had already plodded along three different streets, up and down and back up, all on foot. Judy's impatient paw tapped rhythmically on her phone screen, scrolling through the email with the location for the Mansoa scene.

A concerned citizen had reignited the investigation. She had sounded like an elderly zebra on the phone — Judy wasn't entirely sure why she knew what one of those sounded like. Regardless, after the zebra asked Judy, "What's that, sonny?" half a dozen times, they finally rustled up a credible tip on a Mansoa sighting. It was in a part of town few ZPD officers ventured into alone.

Luckily, Judy had Nick beside her as they wandered fruitlessly.

They passed by old buildings, many with rigidly cubic holes from where bricks had broken away. A scent of pulverized concrete made her nose twitch. While their cruiser sat by a luxuriously decorated storefront selling ludicrously overpriced dolls (or "collectible action figures," as Nick called them), two ZPD officers marched on through a part of town that seemed breathtakingly run-down

She stowed her phone and inhaled deeply. "It seems…sad here, Nick."

"Meh. Reminds me of home a bit. Especially that pothole you're about to walk into."

Her foot wiggled as it suddenly hung over empty space. A little hop backward set her properly. "Yeah, uh, thanks, Nick."

"Of course. I can't have our next mayor breaking her leg — it's only supposed to be a figure of speech, Candidate Hopps."

"Agreed; we'll keep it that way." He had wished her to break a leg as she had stumbled into the center of an eager cluster of volunteers at Campaign HQ and spoke to them. According to Nick, they all left excited and energized. Judy herself was elated to find that she could string together coherent sentences when she needed to.

Nick had buried his snout in his phone's screen; the positioning system would pick up the slack in his tracking skills. "Should be right around this corner. And you did fine with the volunteers; stop fretting. It makes you look funny."

"How did you…hey!"

His laugh trapped itself in a hole in the wall as she glared. "It's been long enough, Carrots. I know when you're worrying too much."

"Is that right? And how do you _know_?"

"I told you already. Just because you can't handle the truth…."

"Because I look funny? Well then, I'll show you a look." At that moment, however, the only look she could muster was confusion. They had rounded the corner, and only an empty street greeted them. "Wait: I thought you said it was around the corner."

Nick's phone burbled. It was a pleasant tone: a jazz riff, with a saxophone and clarinet vying for top billing. Together, they made for a fetching harmony. Sadly, his own tone was not so pleasant. "Oops."

"Oops? Oops is not good, Nick."

"Nah, it's fine. Just…stop walking for a moment." He tapped and spun his paw along the screen. He appeared to be quite adept at the motions; he had been on the device pretty much since he took over the campaign. _A lot of practice_.

"You're pretty handy with your phone, Nick. It's a shame you can't actually read it."

His foot shifted backward, and he sounded a tad defensive. " _Please_. This thing is nothing. I was _made_ for the streets, Carrots…although, on this particular street, I need you to execute an about-face."

An audible groan escaped from Judy, but she turned around. The extra walk didn't seem to bother Nick; truly, Judy didn't mind it either. She rather liked having a few uninterrupted moments with her partner. The case and the campaign battled for their precious time, and though they were together almost endlessly, she didn't feel any closer to him.

Here and now, as they walked the block again, Judy hoped that something of interest would come to mind. She wanted to give voice to a lot of different thoughts. Since they were now going in the proper direction, however, she relinquished the opportunity and dove back into business. "So, the campaign…"

"I suppose it's as good a time as any. Where do you wanna start?"

It was an easy question, and Judy was a little ashamed that she wasn't ready for it. An ear flopped over her eye, and she played with the soft and short strands of fur along its edges.

"Um…well…." She let her gaze drift up toward the rooftops of the buildings. They were painted in dull colors; they somehow robbed the sky of its vibrancy. The sunlight felt tired here. Their ZPD uniforms looked gray if Judy squinted enough; even Nick's shiny and brushed fur couldn't invigorate his cleanly pressed shirt.

Nick cleared his throat; she must have been taking too long. A sly thought popped into her brain, and with no other option, she followed it. "Where do _you_ think we should start, Mr. Manager?"

Nick hummed as he dodged a jagged split in the concrete sidewalk. "Whelp, let's think of it this way: We have a little over four weeks left until this special election. That's our end point; we can work backward from there."

 _That's actually a good idea_! While Judy's mind was excited, her body was a tad more judicious in showing said excitement. "Gotcha…y'know Nick, I really still don't see what's so _special_ about these special elections." Normally, as Nick had told Judy, a campaign would be a much longer process. Weeks upon weeks would go by with candidates locked in heated battle.

Naturally, this election was different. Lobos had been installed as manager for several months, and because he had stood unopposed for so long, there hadn't been a need for much of a campaign; the actual voting part of the election would have been just icing on the carrot cake. Judy's last-minute decision changed the game.

"Hah! Nothing is special about them. Usually, there are a few others slugging it out; best not to complain about that, though."

Judy had also wondered why she was the first (and now that the candidacy period was over, the only) mammal to oppose Lobos. The emptiness of the candidate field raised a host of red flags, all of which she chose to carefully ignore. Such a shakeup in City Hall should draw out wannabes of all stripes to press their luck in the political arena. Both the departures of Lionheart and Bellwether had also swept out a lot of other mid-level players and staffers who would've made solid candidates; yet, Judy found it difficult to believe that _every_ challenger was gone. The silence of the field simultaneously told her quite a bit and nothing substantial.

Nick seemed to relish the challenge of this one-on-one election. Though the light was languid around here, his eyes glimmered with a brilliance as he dove into his idea. "So, our goal is to get you in that big and shiny office in four weeks' time. To do that, we need to convince enough of your fellow mammals to vote and put ya there."

"Okay, I follow."

"Good. Now, a lot of your constituents know who you are thanks to the work on the Night Howler case. For most mammals, that's probably a good thing."

She tried to hide her shock; she failed. " _What_! Why would anyone think otherwise?"

"Whole host of reasons. Some crazies will probably say you were in on it — don't worry about them. Others may take issue with how certain things were, ehm, _handled_."

"You mean like the train station?"

"That, and when you claimed predators had a biological predisposition to devour every living thing in our city."

She halted. Her ears went rigid. Her belly seethed with something white-hot. "That's not— no!"

And Nick brandished the paw of reproach. She chilled immediately. "And I just got beneath that gray coat of yours. You gotta keep your cool, no matter what anyone says about ya. Got it?"

Judy had fallen so easily into his trap. She nodded sheepishly, careful to avoid Nick's stare.

"It's fine, Carrots; you'll remember next time. But, good or bad, the Night Howler stuff will only carry ya so far — especially as the campaign heats up."

He kicked a crushed tin can; it ricocheted off of a stoop about eight houses up and skittered into the middle of the road. It was actually a well-placed shot; Judy wondered how many of those he had kicked before. "Now, Carrots, awareness is one thing; action is entirely different. It seems like we need to think about how we get you in front of as many citizens as possible and how we tell them what you stand for. We need to convert that Night Howler fame into real votes. How's that sound?"

"Okay…sure, I think you're right. But you think I'm ready to be talking to crowds?"

"Well, you're getting better at the whole talkin' thing. The volunteers tolerated you well enough, and you kept your message in focus — that's good. Plus, there's not a whole lotta time left for you to get ready; trial by fire is gonna be our best bet."

Reluctantly, she agreed. "Right. So…how do we get more mammals listening?"

"We're going to get you everywhere. You need to be on everybody's phones, their TV screens, their computers, _everywhere_." A little smirk brightened Nick's face. "Emmitt is doing a good job of setting that up so far, but we'll need to think of other ways, too."

"Is that where the media can help?"

"The media _can_ help; yet, with the media, it'll be tougher to control the direction. It would be nice if we could get something to soften you up a little more. A… _fluff_ piece, perhaps?"

The look Judy delivered would have stopped a fully-grown elephant in its tracks. All Nick did was smile and point the way. "Couple more blocks, Fluff."

Despite his lame, all-but-funny joke, Judy admitted that Nick's ideas were really solid. Behind the cavalier smile was a careful plan and a great deal of thought. He made it look so effortless; she felt fortunate to have him here. And there was something indescribably magnetic about watching him work this way. It drew mammals to him — she could sense the pull. Strands of fur rose as she walked a little closer to her partner.

She kept her tone conversational. "And what do I tell everyone? You said my message is good, but there are so _many_ problems I should be addressing. Where do we start with it, Nick? How do we talk about all of these…issues?"

There was no hesitation; he must have been preparing for this question for some time. "Look, Hopps: Zootopia has a lot of things going on right now. You could pick any number of the dozens of issues and still not scratch the surface. But you've been talking about a big one: opportunity. The hope for success is powerful; don't discount that. And many of these other problems that mammals will ask about can be answered with the promise of more opportunity. Hearts, minds, and _wallets_ , Candidate Hopps."

Her mind didn't settle so easily. She broke stride with him as she scrunched her face. "Really? That's it? But what about—"

"No. The more you try to throw in there, the more confusing your message will be. With so little time, ya gotta pick this one and ride it out. Decisiveness is key."

He delivered it with such conviction; it was hard for Judy to fight it. She chose to compromise instead. "Alright…I just wish I could practice this or something."

Nick was uncharacteristically quiet for almost ten steps; Judy's stomach dropped. "You might just have that chance...there could be a few reporters up ahead, actually. Somebody let it slip about this Mansoa tip — and no, Finnick didn't help with this one."

Her assignment to the case had not been a secret; she and Nick had earned a few column inches in the middle of the "City" section in the newspaper. The television stations broke the story and then let it simmer for a while; other distractions filled screens right now. A bit of continued interest, however, should be expected. "Oh…so, uh, what do I do with reporters?"

His eyelid twitched, and he leaned closer to his phone. She dreaded a call to turn around again, but he only offered some advice. "I don't think we have time at present for me to explain everything. But just remember this to start: Always answer the question you hoped they had asked."

It was at that moment that Judy realized she had not been keeping track of Nick's plan. _I should be writing all of this down_. Out came her notepad and ever-present carrot pen, and she went to scribbling. "Always…answer…the question…."

The scratches of her shorthand attracted Nick's look. "The trusty carrot pen, eh?"

"Never leave home without it."

"Hasn't it run outta ink yet?"

"It's called a refill, Nick." Invariably, Judy would get a little testy when someone questioned anything about her carrot pen. The sentiment of it warmed her paw whenever she set the pen's tip to paper. Somehow, everything made sense when she used it to write.

She wasn't sure if Nick understood, but he surrendered nonetheless. "Fair enough; I was just curious, my dear partner."

She flipped closed her notepad and tapped her chin with the top of her pen. "Mhm, I'll bet. So how close are we…to…."

Nearly a hundred camera shutters sounded like distant thunder as they clicked in unison. The crime scene was like a castle, guarded at its parapets by some local beat cops. The cordon around it, though, was brimful with reporters, who undulated as they pushed and shoved their way to the wall of yellow tape roping off the scene.

"This is more than a few, Nick."

"Yep. And for some reason, I don't think they're here for Kyle."

Something —perhaps the combination of fox and bunny scents mingling in the stale air — triggered the mass to turn. Suddenly, a whole mess of eyes and camera lenses were trained on Judy. "There she is!"

Her fur clung to her body as the wave rolled toward them. Nick, though, was on the spot. A stiff-paw blocked the nosiest of reporters as the wave broke. He grabbed her paw and together, they carved a path toward the crime scene. "Back off! C'mon, get out of the way! We have real investigative work to do, thank you."

Questions were flying at her from all directions; in total, they were a jumble of utter gibberish. She did her best to keep her eyes from widening like a terrified kit. She concentrated on Nick's grip. His paw was hot, but not in an unpleasant way. It was energizing as they dipped and weaved past bulky cameras and jutting microphones.

Mercifully, they crossed the gate of yellow tape and a stern-looking officer from another precinct and entered a roped-off square of open pavement. The wave of reporters splashed against the tape but proceeded no further; the mountainous grizzly bear guarding the line made sure of that. She covered her lips to hide the sigh of relief.

A police cruiser was parked at the center of the square. The pavement was old; the asphalt had grayed, with cracks like wrinkles scattered around. Officers from another precinct were milling about, with a few more joining their ursine compatriot in keeping the tide of reporters from rushing inward and flooding their scene.

Training kicked in. She went to the top of her checklist. _Establish the chain of command_. She summoned a mighty voice from within her. "Who's in charge here?"

Somewhat surprisingly, Nick answered. "That'd be us, Hopps."

Her mighty voice fled. "Huh?"

"Our case, our clues. This one is all us. Right boys?"

Their fellow officers' curt nods signaled their agreement. With a weirdly large smile, one cop gestured toward a spot by the parked cruiser. Judy felt that his grin was unnecessary — at least until Nick and she reached the spot.

There lay a blob of navy blue. It had more wrinkles than the pavement; in fact, it appeared almost formless save for three strategically placed holes.

Judy needed to crouch down and squint to puzzle it out. "Is that a shirt?"

"Yep."

Nick proceeded to tap it with his foot, much to Judy's dismay. _Keep all evidence as-is until the proper crime scene team_ _arrives_! "Nick, what're you doing! Don't be touching the evidence!"

"Calm down, it was just a tap. But you're right: it's a shirt. A Lionheart shirt, that is."

Sure enough, emblazoned on the front of this lump was the "Lionheart for Mayor" banner that had become ubiquitous during his first campaign. Bunnyburrow was outside city limits, of course, but she had heard plenty about it from Nick. Lionheart had mobilized a veritable army of volunteers and champions of his cause; he rolled into his first term with an incredible landslide victory. This particular brand of shirt was reserved for special contributors (financial or otherwise) to his campaign — one of many gifts Lionheart gave to reward loyalty.

She wondered just how well Kyle Mansoa knew Leodore Lionheart. _Enough for this, perhaps?_ "Y'think it's Mansoa's?"

Nick didn't shed any further light. "Dunno. We'll wait for the crime lab techs; let's see what they can dredge up on it."

Judy didn't mean for her sigh to telegraph her disappointment so clearly. At that range, though, only Nick would be able to hear it. "Is that it? Just a shirt?"

"Looks like it, partner. Kinda weird, huh?"

The whole scene stank of weirdness. Judy's nose twitched as she surveyed everything. Beyond the reporters still seething by the tape, she saw a decrepit townhouse. A shingle tumbled from the roof; it didn't make a sound as it disintegrated upon impact with the dingy sidewalk. _Of all places, Mr. Mansoa…._

She had to admit: it was rather frustrating. As complex as it became, the Otterton case had at least made a modicum of sense. There were patterns to follow, like a trail of breadcrumbs leading them to the bigger truth; however, Mansoa's disappearance was proving to be uniquely tricky. Nick and Judy had so few pieces, and the things they had were not connecting. Even with the media's attention and the vigilant eyes of many citizens, only sparse and seemingly disparate elements emerged.

 _We must be missing something_ , Judy's mind nagged.

"Why would he be _here_?"

"A good question, my thoughtful partner. But for now: you need to go say hi to everyone out there."

Mansoa vanished immediately from her mind as Nick set his paw on the small of her back. She was already lost in the notes of her discussion with Nick when he delivered the inevitable shove. She barely felt her feet while she crossed the square and reached the wall of yellow tape.

Upon seeing her, the wave of reporters surged; a few enterprising individuals even stuck a microphone across the barrier. A low growl erupted from her fellow officer, but she waved him off.

She again summoned the mighty voice. "People, _please_ calm down. I will take a few questions."

It was wishful thinking, really; the feeding frenzy had begun. A small part of Judy wondered how many times the same question could be repeated — nearly one hundred reporters each asking a distinct question sounded impossible. No matter, really: it was all still a complete mess.

She tried for calm again but gave it up as the questions only became louder. She closed her eyes and set an ear to task. It flitted about atop her head, scanning for something intelligent. Out of the tumult, one bubbled forth. "Ms. Hopps: What do you think of how your opponent has been running the city?"

Nick was right; they weren't here for Kyle Mansoa. It saddened her, though she hid her feelings beneath a plastered smile. Panic tried to set in; there was still so much noise. But a deep breath reminded her of Nick's words. _Always answer the question you hoped they had asked_. She was momentarily back in the room with Mr. Big, contemplating how that early morning meeting had launched something amazing. She could sense Nick watching from the corner once more. That notion alone allowed calmness to descend, and she opened her eyes, ready to face the tumultuous sea.

"While Mr. Lobos has done a fair job to keep the city afloat after the events of last year, I'm afraid that is the total of what has been accomplished. A fair job… _good enough_. But it is not enough. And as a city, we cannot settle for _good enough_. The time has come to be better than we are — better than we have been to our fellow mammals. We need to be a real city, where neighbors watch out for one another and where our leaders watch out for all of us!"

Her ears picked up a few delighted whispers. They were quickly suppressed as questions roared again. She pointed to a meerkat, who announced herself as a rep for some local magazine. "So what will you do differently, Ms. Hopps?"

Gears turned in her mind; it was closer to automatic this time. She broke it down piece by piece. _What's the question I want to answer_ _?_ It was smoother; she almost didn't need to pause.

"With the support of my fellow citizens, I will seek to create opportunity for _everyone_ in Zootopia. All mammals need to have the opportunity to find themselves, no matter where they come from. Opportunity won't just be for those who have the shiny storefronts. It'll be for the mammals who live in these very buildings." She thought that her gesture may have been a mite grandiose, but the camera shutters clicked anyway. "Everyone deserves a chance to be their best!"

Reporters murmured into their microphones and recorders. Judy flashed a winsome smile. Her paws buzzed as she awaited the next question. It was intoxicating, actually — _carrot purée has nothin' on this!_

"Hopps! C'mon, we gotta finish securing the scene!" Sadly, duty called and ruined the buzz.

The groan of the crowd shook Judy's fur as she yielded the floor. Cameras continued snapping as she walked back toward Nick. Her mind churned with a thousand news ways to answer the reporters' questions. It was hard to focus; she barely caught Nick's words in time. "Alright, so, we'll wrap things up pretty quickly around here; then, we should head back to the station and see about that shirt. Might tell us something."

Nick doing police work was a pleasant surprise. Her smile was genuine. "Great!" The buzz was wearing off, especially as she listened to more of the camera shutters clicking. Yet, she felt rather accomplished; the blue was returning to Nick's shirt.

The scene had been secured for a while now; Judy had a feeling why she had been summoned back. To show her comprehension, she winked at Nick; his ear twitched. "How was that, Nick?"

She was right. A paw went to his chin, and he studied her with careful eyes. "You're getting there — I could tell you were enjoyin' it. Might even be able to put ya in front of a bigger crowd soon." His tail suddenly locked itself in place. He leaned in, and his voice was gruff; a jolt of fear electrified Judy. "But don't be so soft on Lobos, okay? You're running against him for mayor, not prom king or something. You can really dig into him. Got it?"

She got it. But, she felt compelled to correct him. "Wouldn't I be _queen_?"

Nick snorted.

She shrugged. "Guess it doesn't matter: I never went to prom."

"…huh. Me neither."

He had taken away the thrill of oration, and Judy was itching to poke at him for it. She smelled a perfect chance to tease. "Would you have taken me to prom, Nick?" Although, truth be told, she was also a little curious about his answer.

Time seemed to linger for a few moments. The noise of the reporters fell away. The buildings vanished. She watched his snout crinkle in a wonderfully complex pattern. _He's deciding what to say_ — it was as clear as day for Judy.

After all their time together, she was so certain he would take the bait. It was like a big fat blueberry fresh from the bushes: perfectly rich blue skin, the right amount of juice, the satisfying pop when bitten, _irresistible_. And with a wink of his own, Nick turned his back on it. "C'mon partner, we gotta get back to our cruiser. Time's running out on the meter; I'd _hate_ to get a parking ticket."

* * *

 _More to come soon; stayed tuned!_


	11. Chapter 4: Part III

**_A/N_** _: Alright, Zootopians, here's another Part of "Run"! This one should be interesting, as we'll see how Judy reacts to a little pressure._

 _Thanks to **TheCatweazle** for your inimitable work proofing this story! It's so greatly appreciated._

 _My thanks to the story's reviewers, **Berserker88, Omnitrix 12, Combat Engineer, HawkTooth, jeffhoward78,** and **nota999** , for your fantastic feedback! I'm glad to know where the story is going well and where it can be made better._

 _And thank you to all of you who fave, follow, and read this tale! I hope you're enjoying reading "Run" as much as I am enjoying writing it. ~ Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

The streetlamp outside Emmitt's home shone brilliantly in the deep night. The shaped glass in the Ottertons' front door skewed the lamp's beams; Judy held her breath as a rainbow twinkled in the edges of the window.

It had been an exceptionally long shift at the precinct (with no overtime pay, as Nick had helpfully reminded her every half hour). The shirt had begun its journey through the laboratory, and it was completely out of their paws. With no more leads to follow, she had twiddled away the hours by fussing over reports on litterbugs or scribbling campaign slogans on her notepad. As he hung around their desk at ZPD, Nick had taken to his phone again, both tapping and scowling furiously. He had mentioned that he was working on getting some people together so that she could practice delivering her campaign's message; she had told him to keep on it.

The quickness Nick displayed in bringing together a team really should not have surprised the candidate. "I didn't think you'd find a group _this_ soon, Nick," she said as she turned from the prismatic glass and headed toward the kitchen.

Nick hovered between the formal room and the kitchen. Judy watched his feet dig into the plush carpeting as he made a face of fake disbelief. "Really, Hopps? I'd have thought you'd expect it by now."

She let a giggle escape while her paw played with the cuff of her shirt. Each thread was familiar in her grasp; it was her favorite set of police blues. Yet, even with that small comfort, something bothered her. "Are you sure I shouldn't put on, like, a suit or something?"

Nick looked aghast; Judy was curious how much of it was theatrical. "Are you kidding? You're an officer of the law — a _model citizen_ — and you'd wanna go civilian on me? Not a chance I'd take you outta those ZPD blues."

Some tiny piece of her mind let out a yearning sigh as he said that. There was a sweetness in his words, Judy could detect that; but, it was diluted by his overwrought frown and the furrows in his brow. He looked the part of a concerned campaign manager, his playfulness disappearing so suddenly. She peeked at the entryway to the kitchen, and her task became clear.

"Well then…." She adjusted her badge until it was perfectly straight. "Let's get to it."

Most of the volunteers had retired for the evening. Computers banks and printer clusters were napping; it was likely their first break in days. Nick had cleared out everyone except for his choice group, who awaited their candidate in Emmitt's kitchen.

They were about twenty steps away from joining the group. Nick used almost all of them to run through a quick itinerary. "Alright, Carrots. You did well with the press the last time, but tonight, we're gonna work on refining your message. We'll get it down to a science. We're also gonna throw some, eh, _criticisms_ at ya and see how you handle it."

Judy ignored the alarm ringing in her head. "Criticisms?"

"So…everyone who listens to you speak will have different reactions. Some will be good; others, not so much. We can't account for every possibility, but we'll expose you to enough of them to hopefully get you through the election."

"Uh huh."

"And we may tweak a few of your more distracting tendencies."

She blinked a few times to help Nick's words sink in. "What do I do that's distracting?"

"I'm going to let this group answer that question." And with a sweep of his forelimb, he introduced Judy to her first focus group.

The first ones she saw were no surprise: Emmitt and his wife. She thanked them immediately. There were a few new faces: the badger who had donated the printers (Mr. Mellivore) and the capybara who had been arguing over the computer bank when Judy received her invite to the upcoming gala (Jimbo, he called himself). Their presences were appreciated, though Judy was curious as to why they had been selected. Nick surely had a reason; Judy was already planning her interrogation after the focus group wrapped up.

As she greeted everyone, she whispered hoarsely to Nick: "I mean…does this really count? Isn't everyone here on our side?"

Nick was cool in his reply. "And that makes them the toughest critics. Just roll with it; let's see how it goes."

Each group member smiled and received her thanks warmly. They seemed like a rather regular collection of citizens, if a bit on the small side as groups go; although, the strangest creature of them all was Nick's phone, which rested on a makeshift kickstand on the countertop. The video chat app was running, and the screen was looking onto an uncannily familiar scene — empty of mammals, but the pattern of the wallpaper reminded Judy of somewhere special.

"Oh, don't worry. Our other group members will hop on momentarily." Nick took the only unoccupied stool. Judy shuffled her feet a few times before Nick thought to mention it. "Ah yes, you'll be standing for the duration of this exercise. Right there is fine." He finished with a wide grin.

Judy managed to keep her grumble contained as she squared her shoulders and took her place in front of the crowd. The group members were chatting softly to one another; most of it sounded eager to Judy's ear. She took a moment to check with Nick on the group's membership.

"I half-expected to see Finnick here, Nick," she said while she dusted off her lapel.

"He is otherwise occupied this fine evening."

She let go of her many questions on that point. "Anyone else?"

"Well, I called up Flash; he'll be here around dinnertime tomorrow."

"With the way he drives? I wouldn't be too sure."

As Nick laughed, Judy's mind raced. She went back through Nick's abbreviated lessons and to the times when she had spoken before. It was a lot of data to collate. Nick had given her a few more primers as they had sat at their ZPD desk; those had been the only moments when his snout left his phone. In this kitchen where she felt at home, everything rose naturally, and she beamed brightly with a remarkable confidence.

She opened up at a strong pace. Her paws moved as natural extensions of herself; they complemented her voice. "Well, first of all: my thanks to each of you for joining me this evening to talk about our city. I'm so excited to share with you my thoughts and—"

"Oh, Judy, shine your badge, dear! It looks a little dull."

"Bonnie: you're interrupting her. Leave her alone! But, uh, sweetie: Be a little bigger with your gestures, okay? You're just a hair too cramped right now — not that there's anything _really_ wrong with that! It'd just be nice to see more, that's all."

Mortified could barely begin to describe her feelings. She had not been paying attention to the screen; she certainly was now. Emmitt let out a soft snicker; Nick was much more uncouth. Judy wanted to crawl under the kitchen island and hide. Instead, she waved at Nick's phone and summoned forth the strongest voice she could muster. "Hi, Mom…and Dad."

"Ah good, they've joined." Nick spun around his phone. "Hello, Hopps Family!"

"Oh, there he is. So good to see ya, Nick! Thanks for the invite; we're so excited to watch our little girl in action!"

"And she is so thrilled to have you here, Stu — I just know it."

Her parents and Nick had been introduced somewhere in the course of events; Judy couldn't recall when exactly. To hear her dad speak to Nick so cordially still surprised her. It really shouldn't have; she knew how friendly her father was to everyone. But for the rabbit who gave his daughter a can of fox repellent as a going-away present…it was actually a little heartwarming to see her parents get along so well with Nick (and for some reason, they actually thought he was funny).

Though, it would have been a bit nicer to have known her parents would join ahead of time. Perhaps this surprise was part of the preparation — she really hoped it was. Still, she could wrangle up a few choice words to include in her interrogation of Nicholas. She filed away some furious invectives and returned to her speech. "Right, so…our city is in need. It's a need that runs deeply through every street and every home."

"And what need is that?"

Mr. Mellivore had a booming voice — surprising, as he appeared to be a kindly middle-aged mammal. A shudder passed over Judy's fur when he interrupted: partly due to the shocking deepness of his voice, and partly due to the unexpected halt to her speech. It became apparent that Nick intended to use this group to push her.

"That's a good question, sir. And when I think about that, I remember when I came to this city of ours. When I first arrived by train, I was told that anyone could be anything. And I believed it. Now, I am _proof_ of that. But for so many others, that moment hasn't arrived yet. What they _need_ is something to believe in."

"And you're that something?" Emmitt was quick on the draw.

"No. Our _city_ is that something. And our leaders must be the ones who guide us there."

"Mhm, a decent line there, Candidate Hopps."

Nick's comment pulled a genuine smirk out of Judy. She had only spoken the truth; conveniently, it sounded wonderful in the process.

"And our current leaders are not accomplishing this?" Mr. Mellivore was quite chatty.

She added a bit more thought than last time. "Sure, for some of us, we've seen improvements. But many, _many_ more have none. Mr. Lobos and his administration have had enough time to change a few things, to overcome the corruption and sluggishness of the past. Instead, they've embraced it, and we, the citizens of Zootopia, have been forced to suffer for it. It is high time we change that."

"And will your change be as loud as, oh, an exploding train station?"

Mrs. Otterton, it seemed, was not one to pull punches.

Judy visibly froze — only for a moment, but it was enough to catch Nick's eye. She watched one of his eyebrows climb up his face as her own stomach sank.

For some reason, honesty seemed like a wise choice here. She wondered what Nick would tell her afterward. "It was regrettable. The damage done during that case, it has left a scar on Zootopia. Now, I am not proud of that moment, but I'm afraid that scar reflects a wound much deeper than one train could cause." She paused for a dramatic effect; the creaking stools suggested it was working. "Yet, I believe in what we accomplished. Our work helped predators return to the fold and—"

"Did predators ever leave?"

Much like the train, she stopped dead in her tracks. She did her best to hide the shock, just like Nick instructed. "…no. But—"

"And do you think they should? Your speech during the Night Howler case seemed to suggest that to me."

Mrs. Otterton was a skilled socialite; that much had been proven at Emmitt's celebration. But Judy found this side of her to be eminently more fascinating. She was critical, but not caustic; it illustrated her deep intellect and the careful thought that she had put into this exercise. This pair of otters held endless surprises for Judy.

The candidate shuffled her feet as a response formed. "My speech, and what happened after it, showed me just how painful this situation is. We're at a crossroads as a city: we can do more to fix it, to begin to heal. Or, we can take the Lobos approach and let it sit open and do nothing as it worsens. Now, I know what I would prefer, and I believe many of you would agree. I did learn much that day, and I intend to use that knowledge to its fullest extent as Mayor."

"Better, Candidate Hopps. That's better."

Judy had no time to nod her approval; the group descended upon her. "But what about…."

And so it continued for over an hour. Questions of all kinds bombarded the candidate. After every answer she gave, no matter how lengthy or short, she glanced to Nick to monitor his reaction. He had been right: Every mammal in the room reacted differently, and she saw each one play out on furry faces. But, she found she spent most of her time observing the crinkling of Nick's snout or the glint in his eyes as he grew inquisitive. The other mammals looked differently, and they were difficult to understand in such a short time; but with Nick, she could read everything so plainly. That kept her on her feet for this marathon.

The capybara — _Jimbo, was it?_ — did not speak during this whole thing. In fact, he had yet to look away from a laptop he had scooted over when Judy had commenced her exercise. Despite her best efforts, she could not tear Jimbo's eyes from that screen.

Nick noticed. "Heya, Jimbo. Anything you'd like to add?"

Jimbo waved off Nick; Judy suppressed her chuckle as Nick's ears suddenly flattened. She stole a moment of joy at seeing Nick caught off-guard. It was a moment that was torn away as Mom's voice blared from the phone.

"Oh, I have something to add!"

"Yes, Mom?"

"Take a break, dear! You've been doing this for too long."

Judy planted her heels into the grouted edges between the tiles in the floor. "But—"

Dad was fast. "Don't talk back to your mother, Jude! You take a break now. Nick, have her take a break."

And Nick seemed happy to comply; his winsome smile flashed over top of the screen. "Better yet, I think we'll call it an evening." To the whole group, he added: "Thanks for your help, everyone."

She unleashed a tremendous sigh before she took her turn thanking her interrogators; they milled around a while longer as Nick chatted briefly with each member. Judy shivered; the kitchen felt colder than it ever had before. There was something bothering her as the group began the arduous process of saying goodbye. Nick was kind enough to handle hanging up on her parents; she was certain that a debriefing would be coming from them in the morning.

 _Oh…morning_. The mere thought wore her out entirely. She tried to stop the yawn, but it snuck out without her permission. Her partner, having completed his post-session interviews, must have seen or heard it; he was upon her in a few blinks. The bags under her eyes felt twice as heavy as when she started. "Nick, I'm…."

His paw rested on her shoulder. A soft smile showed the tips of his canine teeth. "Yeah, I'll bet."

She could barely make sense of his kindness. There were snide remarks couched behind it, she was pretty sure of that. But as the din died down, and it became only the two of them in the kitchen (the Ottertons had mumbled something about enjoying the stars on the front porch), gratefulness swelled in Judy's belly. A hint of excitement mixed with her tired voice. "Whadya think?"

He took back his paw to gesture while he spoke. "Good. Solid lines about the Night Howler business, I think you did well there. And you kept your focus on Lobos. We might need to have you narrow down a few points, give some specific examples, and touch up your language. Overall, though…nice job, Candidate Hopps."

While flattering, a _nice job_ was never good enough for Judy Hopps. She squeezed her own paws. "Yeah…but what about that one on the computer, whatever his name was…."

That made Nick laugh. "I was wondering if Jimbo would get to you. I wanted to see if you could get a teen to look away from his screen. Nothing doin', it seems. Don't be too hard on yourself, though; it's an impossible task."

She smiled as she pulled her phone from her pocket; she had set it to vibrate before beginning the exercise. It shook violently in her loose grip. "Oh, Nick, I don't believe in impossible. Yes, Clawhauser?" As fast as it had appeared, her smile fled. "Uh huh…okay, thank you. Send it to my email address. Okay, bye."

Nick sounded amused even as a puzzled Judy shoved her phone back where it belonged. She could already feel him turning away and his device returning to his snout as he said, "Did he break his new game's high score? That's always mighty exciting for him."

It hurt Judy to say it aloud. "…the report on the shirt. It'll be in my inbox, but Clawhauser gave me the summary. There's nothing on it."

She could tell Nick hadn't been fully engaged. But she clearly caught his phone's power button clicking. Her heavy head swung up to a wide-eyed fox. "Huh? Nothing?"

"Yes, Nick: _nothing_. Not a shred of evidence of _anybody_ on that shirt." Exhaustion was winning; her control was vanquished. "I just… _gah_!"

Her foot impotently kicked a stool leg. It scooted a few inches, screeching as it traveled along the floor. She was hopping, cradling a sore foot. The small measure of success that warmed her belly had chilled. Her paws trembled while she tried to collect herself.

Nick allowed her a moment to do so. "That seems odd, don't'cha think?"

She had yet to get there. Judy didn't mean to sound abrasive, but it was hard to deny that she snapped at Nick. " _What_?"

"That there would be nothing _at all_ on there. I mean, who has anything that's completely clean?"

And she grew a little mean, too. "Not everyone's as dirty as you."

"Ouch, Carrots."

Right then, she realized how tightly she was clenching her paws. A deep breath restored enough peace to allow her to think — and jab — properly. "Hey: _You're_ the one who called in my parents. I mean, my _parents_? Really?"

His wounds must have healed quickly; his sly smirk returned. "Who knows you better? And who else would be so…candid in their appraisals?"

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Oh, I savored it, my dear partner." His little wink was infuriating. "Besides, I always cherish the chance to catch up with them. They're quite delightful; you should call them more often."

She couldn't remember when they met, but she certainly remembered how. When Nick had first appeared in front of Judy's camera, she thought her father would faint; he was a kind and considerate soul, yet shock could overcome him easily. But Dad never failed to surprise her. He and Mom had peppered Nick with so many questions that it chased him off-screen; Judy never thought she would see that happen.

Of course, she never thought she'd be standing in front of a crowd and delivering an address on how to fix her adopted home. It felt just as surreal as the last time she had spent time in this kitchen. But now, a heaviness had overtaken Judy. The weights of many duties were crushing; her head could not wander away into the clouds. Just to check, she spun her foot around on one of the floor tiles; it squeaked loudly.

The weariness in her voice could not be disguised. "Why are we doing all of this, Nick?"

Her campaign manager straightened. In this stormy sea, Nick had been a beacon so far — an annoying beacon, to be sure, but she admitted that without him, she would be utterly lost. Every strand of fur tingled as Nick neared. He leaned in; his breath enveloped her ear, tickling as it went. She stopped her small gasp as he inhaled.

And if she hadn't been so tired, she would've slugged him in his smug face after he opened his big mouth. "Well…for the parties, of course."

The bags under her eyes vanished instantly as they widened. "Oh geez, when is that party?" The ivory invitation popped into her mind, which was a place the invitation had not been all week. But, even though she needed a moment to pull it from memory, she recalled the exact hour it would begin. "Oh no, it's so soon! We need… _things_ , Nick! Lots of things!"

Nick had left her side and was readjusting the stool that had punished Judy's foot. "Nah, just you, me and the cruiser oughta do it."

That was unacceptable. "You don't understand how parties work _at all_ , Nick! I need a dress, and we need to be matching, we'll need to get you proper neckwear…."

There was a soothing element to having a clear to-do list. The weight on her shoulders didn't leave, but it did shift. She had enough space to freely build the checklist in her mind. It set her to task immediately. In a flash, she was tracing her way to the Otterton's front door, keys to the cruiser jingling in her grip.

Nick clicked his tongue behind her. She briefly thought of offering to help clean up. But he had invited her parents to his little group; he owed her this one, at least.

In reality, the halogen in the streetlight outside the house burned with a bright whiteness; this became apparent as she opened the door (to an empty front porch, no less). The door creaked as she peeked around from the inside, through the shaped glass in the door frame. The rainbow glistened once more; she much preferred that view.

Her mental list egged her on, and she began the noisy process of shutting the front door. It was a few inches from the latch when she heard Nick cry out from the kitchen. "Uh, hey if you're buying a few things, I could use a new jacket, Hopps… _Hopps_?"

She chuckled all the way down the quiet street.

* * *

 _This one was a fun one to write, but I am also really excited for the next Part! I've been waiting to write it for awhile now :D._


	12. Chapter 4: Part IV

_**A/N:**_ _So this is the longest entry yet for "Run." But, this was one of my favorites to write; it brings in some of my own experiences to shape the setting and the story. I hope you all enjoy it!_

 _Thank you to_ _ **winerp**_ _and_ _ **TheCatweazle**_ _for their tremendous work in beta-reading this chapter! It was a lot to cover, and they did splendidly._

 _And thanks to those who gave this story's most recent reviews:_ _ **Combat Engineer**_ _,_ _ **Berserker88, Omnitrix**_ _ **12**_ _, and_ _ **Madd the sane.**_ _I'm always grateful for your feedback!_

 _And a big thank you to everyone who faves, follows and reads!_

 _Happy reading,_

 _Euphonemes_

 _P.S. I've started writing some drabbles for this story. They're scenes that are somewhat connected to "Run" but have their own feel to them. You can find them on the "Run" thread on Zootopia Rocks!_

* * *

 _Run_

Some mammals can pull off bow ties. Emmitt Otterton was a prime example. The inherent messiness of self-tying the strip of fabric can lend a certain authenticity to the wearer, even in the most formal of settings. In that regard, Emmitt was a master artist.

But if Emmitt Otterton had perfected his brush strokes, Nicholas Wilde was painting with his fingers. It took every ounce of control Judy could summon to keep her paw from fussing with Nick's attempt at a bow tie. Whatever authenticity he would gain would be lost in the disastrous silver distraction festooned around his neck. The skeptical part of Judy wondered if Nick simply desired the attention; sadly, her paw was all but happy to feed it.

She resisted temptation for a few more moments before buckling completely. He swatted away her charging paw as he drove the cruiser up an obscenely long driveway. "Leave it alone. It's mine to tie."

"Just…lemme nab that corner _right there_ …ouch!" Nick's paw connected with hers again, and the slap echoed in the cruiser's cabin. She withdrew and nursed her paw. "Don't hurt your candidate, Nick!"

"And don't be so dramatic, _Candidate_ Hopps. I don't believe that suits you too well."

 _And neither does this dress_. Nick's coat fit fantastically — he must have snuck off to a tailor in-between one of many campaign stops throughout the city. In the light of the full moon, the crisp white shirt all but shone from underneath his jet black lapel. But her dress — a new silver and luxuriously cut piece, more appropriate as cocktail attire than the gray number that had made her grin on the way to the Ottertons' party — looked a bit tarnished in the moonlight (but, fortunately, she and Nick at least matched). Her uninjured paw played around with the hem, and it felt sheerer than she had planned for.

Although, perhaps playing with her dress was indicative of the storm in her head. The Mansoa case's lack of any direction, the several dozen stump speeches she made for her campaign this past week, everything roiled violently in a maelstrom within her mind. Jumping jacks and pushups had not slowed it down, and neither had the flurry of preparations for this evening. But, this car ride, with just her and Nick as they headed toward a grand fete, seemed to momentarily calm the choppy waters.

The driveway led up to a very busy valet station. The address imprinted on the ivory invitation was for a hotel, and a rather notorious one at that (the earlier struggles her volunteer research team experienced were now a tad confusing). Outside the cruiser window, sculpted lamps cast golden light across a marble façade. The valet attendant's fur looked gilded as the thin ocelot swung around to the driver's side. It was all so glorious, but the opulence gave Judy a strange little itch.

"We're really here, aren't we?"

Her question had nothing to do with physical location: she was very certain about where she was. She had meant it to be more abstract as she tried to voice the worries of a farm bunny thrust into this golden world. There was no familiar sense of belonging to latch on to — no tilled fields nor wide blue skies. Judy was reeling in her seat.

The valet attendant switched spots with Nick; she carried the scent of lilacs mixed with a drop of gasoline. Judy's plus-one came around the cruiser and popped open the door, flooding the cabin with laughter, shouts and car horns. Nick's extended paw awaited her own (his moments of chivalry were really quite adorable). His gesture was bracing, and she steeled her nerves as she grabbed hold of him.

As she exited, Nick decided to answer the question she was really asking. She saw the smirk emerge; for once, it was actually comforting. "You're going to be great. You have more brains and talent than any of the doofuses in this place. Just be yourself, and we'll get through this."

She found enough comfort in his words to allow herself a jab. "I thought I was only the sixth smartest bunny you knew." _Or was it third most?_ It was getting difficult to remember every detail, which was unspeakably frustrating for a rabbit who prized her sharp memory. Under the folds of her dress, she tapped the tip of her carrot pen, which would always be ready to provide assistance whenever she needed it.

Even while Judy fretted, Nick smiled brilliantly. That smile of his almost looked gaudy, thanks to the golden light streaming from the lamps under the hotel's portico. But somehow, Nick wore it perfectly as he tugged her along to the smooth glass entrance. "There's always room for improvement, Carrots."

He had splashed on a little too much cologne. Her nose twitched as she kept a forelimb's distance between them. Yet, the combination was tantalizing, and Judy lost her focus for a moment, nearly missing the twenty-foot tall ice sculpture of Zootopia's skyline serving as the centerpiece of one massive party.

The hotel's grand foyer had been converted into the swankiest of locations. It must have been fancy beforehand, Judy felt confident about that; but now, with tapestries, artwork and pedestals with a number of rare collector's items scattered about, the sophistication emanating from this room was immeasurable.

"Just like the country fair, eh, Carrots?"

This was a far cry from the fairgrounds she used to call home.

"Ma'am?" Immediately, a server bedecked in a vest and sporting a _properly_ tied bow tie swooped in front of the pair and produced a tray loaded with long stem glasses. Inside each one, an orange substance bubbled gently. The smell gave it away immediately.

"Uh, no carrot purée for me this evening, thank you."

With a curt nod, the server disappeared, and Nick leaned in. "Second smartest bunny."

"I've moved up, have I?"

Nick laughed, and with her forelimb entwined with his, he guided her into the black-tie swarm. Beautiful creatures moved with a refined elegance between close-knit circles. Judy saw a few sets of wary eyes poke out from several of the tight groups, but most of these mammals declined to even look at her. They were so transfixed on one another, trying to give the right witty comment or carefully timed laugh to ingratiate themselves into these clusters.

There were many marvelous things in the foyer to gawk at, Judy was sure of that; yet, the lavender in her eyes was dulling. She quickly discovered that everything — and more importantly, _everyone_ — in the room carried a sense of falsehood. Cheeky grins and mirthful laughs were clearly forced, which her expert eye and ear couldn't help noticing. The pretense of it all exacerbated that nagging itch.

Behind the fake smiles laid truer thoughts, and some of those thoughts were directed at her and her partner. Some were reactions to the profile pieces that had begun appearing in newsprint, while others were fabricated out of thin air. Her ear flitted about on its own, picking up the uncouth remarks these most civilized of mammals did not want too many others to hear.

"A fox here…never thought I'd see the day."

"A rabbit and a fox walking in together: Can you believe it, Reginald?"

"I'm shocked she's not leaving clods of dirt in her wake. Carrot farming _is_ a brutish business, after all."

She clung more tightly to Nick's forelimb. His heartbeat was calm and steady. She closed her eyes and breathed with the pulse.

"That callow girl and dirty fox — they don't stand a chance."

The tears were forming beneath her eyelids. Soon, they would leak out and dampen the fine fur of her cheeks. Already, blood was rushing to her face, and all she wanted to do was dive under the long bar erected along the back wall, as hiding from the haughty cruelty seemed like the only good exit strategy.

She was one more comment away from joining the bartender when a familiar voice reached her ear. "Ah, Ms. Hopps…and Mr. Wilde!"

That voice was warm and congenial like always; but, a small part of her wished it had been any other voice. Her paw did its best to eliminate the evidence of her tears before she faced her opponent.

"Mr. Lobos, how good to see you here!"

Nick's pulse accelerated. His fur was bristling under her paw, and she realized that she would probably need to do most of the talking. Luckily, her voice was steady.

She broke contact with Nick for a few seconds to greet Arturo Lobos, who strode with the same confidence and purpose he had wielded in his office. If she were being completely honest, he looked rather fetching in his evening attire. Every article of clothing, from his scarlet cummerbund to the collar stays in his pressed white shirt, was meticulously prepared. It was clear how comfortable Mr. Lobos felt in such an outfit and in such a venue — he actually looked like he _belonged_ here.

And the female wolf standing next to him looked even more comfortable, perhaps eager to garner some attention. Her scarlet dress (exactly the same hue as Arturo's cummerbund) flowed gorgeously around her svelte figure. Embroidered sequins caught the golden light of the room, and as she daintily shook Judy's paw, her dress flickered like the tongues of flames in the largest of backyard campfires.

Mr. Lobos chimed in with a puzzled sound. "Well, I should like for you to meet my campaign manager, but I am afraid he is battling the throngs near the bar at present. Instead, please allow me to introduce you to someone very special to me." His paws nestled into her dress's folds around her waist. "Officers Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde: my wife, Izabella."

 _What a pretty name_ , Judy almost said aloud. It suited this graceful wolf standing before her. Judy couldn't help the smile that formed on her face.

And Izabella's voice was just as beautiful as she was. She spoke with strength and conviction, but with a hint of duskiness that lined the edges of her words. Nick must have been noticing the same since Judy caught the tremble that ran the length of his forelimb. "Ah, yes, Arturo has told me much about you both. Charmed to make your acquaintance."

Mr. Lobos was beaming; there was a genuineness to his smile that stood opposed to this room of falsehoods. "She is a professor at my alma mater. Her field of study is economics, which is something I never quite developed a taste for." They exchanged a playful smile, the kind that emerges between partners who have shared every reaction the other could dream up. Judy's paw slid down Nick's arm and stopped on his paw. She caressed it, and he cleared his throat.

"Apologies: I have been apart from Izabella for far too long recently. The rigors of the campaign are all-consuming, as I am sure you understand."

"Indeed, Mr. Lobos. Nick and I have been busy, too. There's always much to be done."

Mr. Lobos opened his mouth, but Mrs. Lobos beat him to it. "I must admit, Ms. Hopps, there is a question that has been nettling me ever since Arturo first told me about you: Would you mind elucidating the connection between you two?" Her paw swung between Nick and Judy. "You're…?"

"Partners!" Judy blurted out. Nick's paw tensed. She blinked a few times, unsure of how to clarify it. "We're…work partners, with the police."

"And now you work together on the campaign trail? Simultaneously?"

Judy nodded, figuring it was best to say nothing now.

"How fascinating. You spend a great deal of time together, I would imagine." Izabella snuck in a coquettish wink, which set Judy back a few steps.

"We make a good team." _Nick to the rescue_. He sounded rather self-assured, but there was something in his tone, or maybe the shaking in his paw, that might have suggested otherwise. Perhaps _team_ was not the word he had planned to use? Judy decided this would warrant further investigation.

For the moment, though, she needed to focus on the Lobos couple. "Yes, that's right. We do."

"Mhm." Mrs. Lobos swirled around her glass of something delightfully bubbly. Her gaze did not relent as she downed the glass's contents.

"Well now, Ms. Hopps," Mr. Lobos was treading carefully now, "I was not wrong to say that this would become an interesting race for the mayor's office! You and your manager here have built a remarkable team, it seems. We are, as they say, in a dead heat."

That was true. Some recent polling data suggested they were indeed in a neck-and-neck race. The brevity of the campaign season was working in Judy's favor, as Lobos had waited too long to start, or so Nick told her. Judy had tried to take advantage of that gap as much as she could, and thanks to her incredible volunteer staff and their grassroots work, it seemed to be working.

"It is an interesting experience, Mr. Lobos. You gain a fuller appreciation for the work that goes into politics."

"That is correct, Ms. Hopps. It is not entirely shaking hands and kissing babies, yes?"

Her laugh was honest. And with how the muscles flexed in his forelimb, she could tell that bothered Nick. "It is a lot of hard work. But running a city requires hard work."

"Indeed it does, Ms. Hopps!"

"So does doing _nothing_ , I suppose." The already troubled bow tie around Nick's neck had loosened, and now the knot had become comically large. But Nick's tone was definitely not comical. It took every ounce of her strength to stop herself from unleashing her glare. And yet…a tiny part of her was proud Nick had spoken up.

Lobos wasted no time in addressing the point. "That's an intriguing interpretation of our efforts in City Hall. I believe we have accomplished a great deal of work."

Judy took it from there. "For some, yes. But there are many others who haven't been touched by your work, Mr. Lobos."

He cleared his throat and adjusted his cummerbund while Mrs. Lobos looked on with mild interest. "Ah yes, your clarion call: opportunity for all. I agree in that all mammals, no matter where they come from, deserve the chance to be anything they want to be. But, Ms. Hopps: How do we handle that responsibly? It is unwise to simply hand over the keys to the kingdom to every citizen, isn't it? There must be measured progress. We must first understand intimately our goals and strategies; otherwise, we could worsen the issue."

 _Finally, something fun to do here_. Pieces of her dozens of campaign stump speeches meshed. "But study is not a _substitute_ for action. Now, I walk these streets _every day_ , Mr. Lobos. I see the effects of doing nothing. We want to be smart about it, right; however, that cannot be an excuse for doing nothing. Mammals still need to live, whether a policy is academically sound or not."

Nick and Izabella, and all the other partygoers, faded into the background, and all Judy saw were the shrewd eyes of Arturo Lobos. She locked on with her trademark vigor. In this room of pomposity, she had discovered what kept her grounded.

"But live in what manner, Ms. Hopps? I give them a little now, and they change nothing really. Plus, that comes at the cost of much more later on. I'd much prefer teaching a mammal than feeding them, and I believe we agree on that. But, I want to teach them the _right thing_ , Ms. Hopps. And that takes time."

It felt ethereal, in a way, and spooky in another. She simply knew what to say. "How much time, Mr. Lobos? For the mammal who can't feed his family, or himself, there is no time. We _know_ opportunity exists already — look at Nick and me. Why can't that be extended to others who need it more desperately?"

"Ms. Hopps, I understand the urgency. But there is a need for a process, a way to know who these most desperate among us truly are. Otherwise, we risk wasting the precious resources our city depends upon."

"That means little to those who are starving, Mr. Lobos." Judy was boiling; she hoped the bead of sweat balling below her ear wasn't showing.

"There will always be starving mammals, Ms.—"

"But there don't _have_ to be! So what if a few mammals get help, even if they aren't on the brink of death? Is that such a heavy price to pay to keep others alive? And to give them the chance to be in control of their lives?"

Lobos's eyes never left Judy, and she wasn't breaking contact either. They paused. This was when Judy noticed she was panting, and her paws were clenched so tightly. Luckily, she had let go of Nick. It seemed that Lobos had noticed, too. "Hmm…well, I don't believe we'll agree on many points, Ms. Hopps. But, I am glad for this, _opportunity_ , so to speak." She didn't appreciate that, nor did she care much for his following grin. "This is why we engage in our work, is it not? The _thrill_ of knowing we strive to make a measurable difference for our city every single day?"

"Quite."

And like that, the rest of the world returned to Judy. Mrs. Lobos eyed Judy with a calculating look most likely reserved for her top (or her rowdiest) economics students. She slipped back into Nick's forelimb and saw the stupidly large grin he was wearing. _I guess he enjoyed the show_.

A change of pace felt appropriate to her at this moment. "Mr. Lobos: I would like to thank our hosts. Do you know where I can find them?"

He quit breathing, and something akin to fear flashed through his piercing eyes. It was so shocking to see Lobos afraid that Judy used the paw not already given to Nick to stifle her gasp. "My dear Izabella, would you mind giving Ms. Hopps and me a moment? Perhaps Mr. Wilde would be so kind as to entertain you?"

Nick did not appear pleased to have been drafted into service; Judy could feel it in his rigid forelimb. Yet, she noticed his lip curl up slightly. It wasn't menacing…rather, he looked almost intrigued at the prospect of spending time with Izabella.

And so Nick pulled away his forelimb and offered it to the wolf in the striking scarlet dress. "Of course. Mrs. Lobos, if you please?"

Judy's stomach emitted an odd gurgling sound as she watched Nick and Izabella saunter toward the busy bar. His tail swished calmly back and forth in time with his feet. Nick would be subjected to quite the interrogation later, Judy would see to that.

But first, Arturo Lobos owed her an answer. "Our hosts, Mr. Lobos: Where are they?"

"Ah, yes, well…meeting them could prove challenging. Officially, there are a few private individuals who contribute anonymously to host this event. It's an annual gala to celebrate the efforts of City Hall. But, the Citizens Council is truly the organization charged with assembling everything."

Her wary eyebrow scaled her face in record time. "The Citizens Council?"

Lobos demurred. For the first time since they met in this room, he broke eye contact with Judy as he attempted an answer. "Yes, they're a rather…active group here in our city."

"Really? I've never heard of them."

"Oh, well, they're not ones for the spotlight."

Judy's skepticism finally got the best of her. "You sound strange, Mr. Lobos. What does this group do?"

Labeling the short pause that followed as awkward was a complete understatement. It was definitely strange to catch Lobos completely off-guard. His usual polish had worn away, and she could easily tell that he was scrambling for words that would be good enough. "…suffice it to say, they support a great many initiatives in our city. I do believe they had a role in passing the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, which you may find to be a pertinent example."

The roaring laughter of Leodore Lionheart echoed in her mind. Memories from her time in the white box with him punched through to the surface. She doubted she could hide her surprise, so she went along with it instead. "So _that's_ who Lionheart was talking about…" she whispered to the floor.

"What's that?" She almost smacked herself on the head. Lobos was listening intently, so she needed to be more careful, especially now that Lobos had introduced this new fact into the conversation.

"Sorry, I was thinking aloud…they sound familiar."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they have, eh, _interceded_ in some investigations of yours, too." He leaned in closely. Her nose tickled as she caught the scents of cinnamon and vanilla, mixed with the particular pheromone of fear that bunnies knew so well. "I would not concern yourself with them at present. Should they desire to be found, they will find _you_ , Ms. Hopps."

The sincerity in his tone had Judy stepping back from him. She cocked her head and took some time to study every wrinkle of worry that had spread across his face. In this room of expensive falsehood and cheap flattery, the face of Arturo Lobos was the most genuine thing she could see. And it terrified her.

Lobos took it upon himself to release the tension. "Ah, it looks like I must retrieve Izabella from her conversation. If you'll excuse me…." As Mr. Lobos brushed past, Judy turned to find Mrs. Lobos leaning on the bar top, alone. A small gasp escaped Judy's lips as she spun in a full circle and failed to locate her partner. As she searched, Mr. Lobos offered a thought over his shoulder: "And, Ms. Hopps, I really do hope you locate Kyle soon. He is deeply missed around City Hall."

And that comment fit perfectly with this room.

But she had no time to dwell on it. Her terror morphed into panic as she continued twirling in a tight circle, searching the crowd of unfriendly eyes for Nicholas Wilde. Now more than ever, she felt compelled to leap behind the bar and hide away from this gilded monstrosity. She took three steps toward the back of the room, away from everything and everyone.

"Boo."

The terror burst open, and every nerve in Judy Hopps flared. She stifled her scream by biting her paw, wincing as her teeth dug in.

She removed her paw long enough to slap him on the shoulder, which was padded to absorb most of the impact. She compensated with her shout. "Where did you go!"

He whipped out two gilded cards from his jacket pocket and waved them in front of her eyes. "Had to get our room keys."

Her jaw dropped. She thought about the booking web page she had perused before this evening, just out of curiosity. The price popped up in her mind. "Wait: you actually _rented_ a room here?"

"Two rooms. With room service on the way. I figured you'd be a little hungry after this."

She was hungry indeed. How chivalrous.

"Well, Carrots, unless you wanna mill around here and get insulted a few more times, shall we?"

His forelimb looked much better with hers draped over it. He flashed his smile and pulled her out of that terrible place. Beyond the staircase to the lobby (the banister was inlaid with pearl, smooth under the touch of her free paw), the next few minutes were a blur. There was an elevator ride somewhere in there. It hadn't seemed that tall of a building on the outside, but her sensitive ears popped on the way up…well, it tickled, really. Some more heartbeats passed, and they were at Judy's door.

"Here we are, Candidate Hopps." For all of the garishness of this hotel, her door was a plain and solid mahogany block. It was gorgeous. Nick handed her the key. The beep of the lock was soft and inviting. The bolt clicked with conviction, and the door swung open smoothly.

Nick's forelimb slipped away as she stepped into a dark room. She heard his feet swivel on the padded carpet. "You're not coming in?"

She turned to see him staring up at the ceiling. "Well, I have some, um, campaign things to wrap up, and I, uh…."

Once his excuse fell to the floor, Judy tried again. She stood in the doorway, the blackness of the room behind her as a backdrop, and she slowly ran her paw down the door jamb. "C'mon Nick. Just for a bit."

His snout crinkled in the particular way it did when he was thinking. She watched the fur ripple as thoughts leaped around that head of his. Truly, it didn't take him too long to decide, but it felt torturous to Judy. "Lead the way, Ms. Hopps."

She chuckled and flipped the switch by the door. More golden light poured from ornate lamps, and the light fell onto a cart laden with nearly a dozen silver domes (it seemed that room service had beaten them there). A mouthwatering collection of scents and spices filled every nook and cranny. Ravenous, she descended upon the cart, and Nick was not far behind.

They devoured appetizers, entrées, and some sort of especially delectable dessert in total silence — it wasn't a long silence, but it was silence all the same. Had she listened more closely, she could have heard the gnashing of teeth or the slurping of soups and broths. But with each bite she kept her eyes and ears closed, lost in a bubble of pleasure. After her wholly unpleasant experience in the gilded room, she savored every blissful moment in the quietness with Nick.

Eventually, right around the end of her entrée, she did open her eyes for a little while. As they continued to chew in silence, Judy watched Nick and felt her anger at the place below begin to evaporate. The night had been rough, but through it all, Nick's paw had been there. When he left with Izabella, and Judy's furious debate had subsided, she found that her solitude made it all far worse. It took being alone in the gilded and fake room for her to realize how strongly Nick anchored her, how his paw brought indescribable comfort to her. And here in this hotel room, with upturned silver domes scattered around and complex scents floating in the air, she finally felt something with Nick that had eluded her since this campaign began: closeness.

The calm persisted for a few minutes as they each took one of two queen-sized beds (Nick had spent a lot on his candidate this evening) and let out contented sighs. Judy patted her sides and felt the dress stretch out, feeling like she'd gained a few inches of postprandial bulk — not that she particularly cared at the moment. The bed's headrest was less than forgiving as she hoisted herself up. She was ready to compliment Nick's food choices; he knew exactly what she wanted.

But Nick, who had finally quit on the bow tie, let loose one thought of his own. "Sorry this was such a bust, Carrots."

She agreed, but a smidgen of guilt kept the truth at bay. She blinked, all doe-eyed and innocent. "What? No, I had…fun…."

"Lying is not your strength, Carrots."

"But I'm…not…." Her sigh betrayed her. Nick had yet to lift himself up from the mattress; all she could see was the pink interior of his ear and the edge of his paw as it tapped without rhythm on his stomach. She tried to salvage something. "I enjoyed hanging around with you, Nick. _That_ was fun."

"Good pivot, Candidate Hopps."

She stiffened. "Must we talk like that?"

"Like what?"

"This… _election-y_ talk."

"We need to be practicing all the time, Ms. Hopps. You still have some skills to work on."

Her foot kicked, and the soft bed covers fluttered to the floor. "And where did you learn your skills, Nick?"

She expected a flippant response, and Nick did not disappoint. "Around."

Judy refused to relent. "C'mon, Nick."

The springs in his mattress squeaked as he finally turned to her. His eyes smoldered with the unearthing of memories long-since buried. She could hear the history in his low voice. "When you live on the streets like I have, you adapt. Haggling, negotiation, compromise: these skills keep you alive out there. Getting mammals to think your way — to see how you want them to see — is necessary." He rolled onto his back again. "And I got pretty good at it."

Though this was something that was clearly personal for Nick, she couldn't help jabbing at the assessment of his own skills. "…nothing more, eh, formal than that?"

"Do I need it?"

He hadn't, yet. But her campaign and all its rigors were incredible challenges. As she watched the fox tousle the fur atop his head, she wondered just how ready he was for those challenges. He had pulled off some things akin to miracles recently, but she worried about how long he could keep it up (and she wondered the same thing about herself, too).

"Right...but, we do make a good, _team_ …right, Nick?" She couldn't hide the touch of despondency. It was sad, really, as she had been thoroughly enjoying not talking about the election with Nick. The silence was preferable. At least then, she could simply stare at Nick and watch his chest rise and fall.

And Nick was silent, but instead of his chest, his paw flicking his own ear distracted her. He had a pattern with how he swirled the short fur that capped his ear: clockwise three times, counter-clockwise twice and then up and down once. Every few seconds, he'd start again. It looked practiced, like his muscles remembered every stroke in perfect order. Had she simply never noticed before? But whatever it was, it was very distracting.

"Nick?" She fidgeted with her dress's neckline and felt heat drift away from her. Was the thermostat broken? "Your thoughts, Nick?"

His paw stopped. His emerald eyes – and only his eyes – rolled over to her. "We do, Hopps."

"Yeah, kinda like Arturo and Izabella."

"Not quite."

She gulped, afraid she had overreached. The room felt a little colder suddenly. "Why not?"

"Because there is no way I'll let you compare me to Arturo Lobos."

His sardonicism aside, she enjoyed the returning warmth of relief. A coy smile hid it decently enough. "Oh, Nick, Mr. Lobos is…I don't know…."

"A dork?"

Had she been standing, her paws would be firmly planted on her hips (even if just for show). "Nick: Why do you not like him?"

"And why _do_ you?"

"I don't know, he just…has _something_ about him." And that was the truth. She had been trying to pin down her odd admiration for her political opponent. Even when their debate was at its hottest, she could not separate Lobos the slick politician from Lobos the genuinely concerned citizen. And that must have been wreaking havoc on Nick's plans for his candidate.

Although, from the sound of his hum and the crinkle of his snout, perhaps Nick had something a little more carnal in mind. "Mhm."

Judy caught on immediately. She stifled her laugh long enough to swing back. "Oh, I get this from the fox who scampered off with Izabella Lobos? I saw how excited you were."

That had Nick turning back to her. She watched his tail whip up, the fur bristling along the end of it. Her devilish smirk easily matched any one of Nick's. The room definitely had to be warming up, as the heat ran in rivulets beneath her dress.

"Although I can't believe you'd ditch her just to get our room keys," Judy said, happy to keep playing. Her paw toyed with the sewn satin lining of the mattress. "You just left her at the bar…for shame, Mr. Wilde."

"Alright Carrots, that's enough of that for now." He didn't sound mean, but it was clear she was getting to him. And she loved it.

"You're just mad because you're losin', right?" She stretched her body along the bed and set her head between her paws. Her tiredness vanished as she let her mind run wild. Perhaps it was the dessert — crème brûlée with carrot shavings, Judy had finally determined — but there was a sweet headiness that enlivened the humid air in this hotel room. "Fine. Then what _else_ would you have in mind besides making fun of you to pass the time?"

She tried to emulate Izabella's coquettish wink, but her eye just twitched uncontrollably. But that was maybe the most accurate way to describe how she felt. It was uncontrollable as she was drawn toward him. And this feeling moved quickly. Before she knew it, every strand of fur stood on end, straining to cross the carpeted gap between two beds.

She could tell he was trying to mask it, but her unusual wink obviously put him on guard. "Not sure, Carrots." He tugged on his jacket and tightened it around himself.

"Is that _really_ your answer, Nick?" The sound of his name tasted like honey on her lips. Already she felt one leg slide toward the edge of her bed. The room was sweltering. Like the desert…no, more like the rainforest.

His snout crinkled again in that particular way it did when he was thinking. But his eyes refused to relinquish their grip on her. Something indescribable lay behind his emerald irises, and it was magnetic. She was transfixed, but she felt that Nick was trying to break away, with his eyes clouding quickly.

Her foot landed on the soft carpet that divided their beds. The threads swished underfoot as her weight shifted closer toward her partner. "Is that really what you wanted to say to me, Nicholas?"

He licked his chops, slowly and deliberately. Was he hoping to get a word in? Was he worried? Or was there something else? She nearly derailed herself as the detective in her started asking questions. She so desperately wanted to know what thoughts tumbled behind those eyes. More questions built up with each step she took.

And then he spoke. "Judy."

Nick was her anchor. His paw had supported her, comforted her, in the glitzy cruelty of the party. It was a paw that she had clung to all night; it was a paw she had caressed. But that paw was not done yet.

"Ah, there we are." Her questions, Kyle Mansoa, the stops to make for the campaign, the terrible mammals in the room below, it all slipped away on the satin sheets. She glided along them and poured herself onto Nick's lap. He was tense, with everything locking up. But, a moment passed, and he relaxed. She ran her paw along his, pausing on his wrist. His pulse was quick but strong.

"We should call it a night."

"Mhm…sure, Nick…." On her side, she could lay her ear perfectly flat against his shoulder. She could hear his soft sigh as she nestled closer. His heartbeat was wild as she pulled his paw to her. It rested atop her silver brooch, a gift from Judy's mother's mother. It was gorgeous but old-fashioned; the clasp was a little rusty, and if squeezed just right, it would pop open and take her dress with it. She drew a tight circle in the fur of his paw before she enfolded it and started to squeeze.

And then he spoke. "I should call it a night." And in a move that must have been used to escape a hundred adverse situations, he lithely tumbled from the bed and popped up with every hair in place. Had her quick paw not grabbed onto the mattress, she would have followed him to the floor. In the sudden shock of being alone in the bed, she tried not to look too forlorn as he picked anxiously at his jacket's lapel. "You, uh, rest now, Hopps. We've a long day tomorrow."

He moved at a healthy clip. She thought to chase after him, but her legs refused to comply. She lay limply on the bed, still too confused to act. "Nick…wait," she called out meekly.

His paw was on the door handle when he stopped. He didn't look back; she didn't think he could manage it. He sounded distant, like his voice was hollow in some way. "It's not you, Hopps. Don't worry…please don't. It's…complicated."

That certainly didn't help. Her face contorted as she grappled with his vagueness. The shock of Nick leaving was starting to wear off, but it just left her feeling drained. "Oh. Okay."

The lock clicked, and the hinges squeaked as he pulled open the gorgeous door. "Well…good night, Miss Hopps."

Words were trapped on her honeyed lips, and they had grown bitter. There wasn't anger in her voice… just a monotone sadness as the door started to close and she let him leave. "Good night, Mr. Wilde."

The door caught for a second. In a flash, her ears were trained on the spot. With her hearing, Nick's whisper was crystal clear. "And yes."

She dared to show a little liveliness. "Yes?"

There was a slight pause; Judy knew he was considering his words with the utmost care. Perhaps he hadn't expected to be heard. But something must have convinced him to follow through with it. "Yes, I would've taken you to prom, my dear partner." The door creaked as he shut it tightly.

Her ears relaxed, and she fell back onto the satin sheets. Behind her head, a cloud masqueraded as a pillow. She nestled into the thousand-thread-count cover, which wasn't nearly as comfortable as Nick, but it would have to do. As she sunk into the mattress, she allowed it to take away the shock and the worry — exhaustion had a funny way of putting things in perspective.

Some sadness lingered, and it would stay with her for the rest of the night. But, alone in her humid room, a soft smile brightened the face of Judy Hopps.

 _I knew you would_.

* * *

 _The next part will be the last of Chapter 4! Thanks for reading, Euphonemes_

 _Updated 2/4/17_


	13. Chapter 4: Part V

**_A/N:_** _And here is our last part of Chapter 4! Things will cool down a bit here, but there's still plenty going on to keep Nick and Judy busy. And in this season of gratitude, I want to share what I am grateful for:_

 _I am incredibly grateful to have **winerp** and **TheCatweazle** proofing this story. They did some exceptional work with getting this part into fighting shape. A big thank you to both of you!_

 _And I'm grateful for **Combat Engineer, Omnitrix 12, Berserker88, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, HawkTooth,** and **fragolette** for sharing their thoughts and ideas in their reviews. This story continues to benefit from your thoughts; thank you for them!_

 _And thank you to all who take the time to read this story and share in this world with me. I continue to enjoy writing Run, and I'm so excited for what's to come!_

 _Thank you,_

 _Euphonemes_

 _P.S. I've begun a side-fic to this one: Off The Trail: A Companion to Run. It's a collection of drabbles that expands on some of the subplots and characters who I think are interesting. They don't really belong in this tale, so they get one of their own! Feel free to check it out, and thank you to __**Combat Engineer,**_ _ **Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps** and __**Berserker88** for leaving your thoughts in reviews!_

 _ **UPDATE** : You may notice that the cover image for this story is different now. This outstanding work of art, crafted by **Red Velvet Panda** (follow her on Tumblr, like, right now), perfectly captures the steely conviction of our heroine as she vies for the title of mayor. It's gorgeous; my thanks to Red Velvet Panda for her awesome work!_

* * *

 _Run_

If Judy squinted enough, the blazing light from the skylights above was actually tolerable. It was so much harsher than what emanated from the golden lamps of the swanky hotel two evenings ago. She and her partner had graciously received a day off after the party; she had spent it in seclusion to think through the never-ending mess of campaign details.

And, for the first time since they'd started, she had done so without her partner. Nick had checked out of the hotel before her (a tad disheartening, especially after the prior evening), but he had ordered her a cab to take her home. It seemed that he was still capable of chivalry, even after he had fled their room and left her alone.

To be totally honest, the loneliness hadn't bothered her. After the gala, no one had called her, or emailed her, or needed her for anything; it was enjoyable. Time to herself had been sparse, and what little she had always felt fleeting. The light of the new workday had not been what she had wanted to see so soon.

Now at her desk, Judy tore into a set of bulky files sitting in her and Nick's inbox: the backlog of casework that had rapidly accumulated as she was gallivanting about town on her campaign tour. They were all petty crimes, a jaywalker here or a shoplifter there. And as she worked through the pile, her brow furrowed more deeply. Conspicuously absent was anything useful to find their elusive hyena.

Many comments still bothered her from the party (if she could even call it that), but none stuck so sharply like Lobos's parting words about Kyle Mansoa. Her frantic search for Nick had taken her attention then, but now, as she thought about his smooth delivery and cool stare, she was more certain than ever that Arturo Lobos knew something about Mansoa's disappearance. She could feel it in her bones; they ached in a very particular way. Gideon Gray (the old Gideon, she always had to remind herself of the distinction) had elicited the same pain years before. Yet, it hadn't been any abuse toward her that drew out the pain; it was how he had flaunted his power and threatened the safety of others that so deeply affected Judy.

But Gideon's power had been purely physical — a brute who didn't recognize what he was doing beyond the moment he was doing it. Arturo Lobos wielded a weapon far more sinister and potent: his sharp mind. In his cool stare, Judy had witnessed the machinations of a wolf who put himself ten steps ahead of everyone else. His intellect, the way he could sway mammals with his rhetoric, with the dazzling Izabella by his side, it was a frightfully dangerous package altogether. It threatened her, she knew that and was prepared to face it; yet, to put the life of Kyle Mansoa in peril …her bones ached.

She took out her frustration on the many checkboxes that needed checking and the paragraph spaces that needed filling on her forms. Her trusty carrot pen scratched as she dug into the paper. Everything else in the station was quiet; all she heard was the scratching as she checked one box after another.

One of two sizable stacks was nearly depleted when she finally heard him. "Morning, Hopps."

Along with thoughts on where the campaign should go, she had spent considerable time the day before wondering what to say to Nicholas Wilde. It might have been naïve, but she had half-expected him to call first and offer an explanation. Such divulgences were not in his character, of course; however, she had hoped for him to, just this once, make an exception and address the reason he had left her bewilderedly sprawled across the satin sheets of her bed.

Time had slightly mollified her anger and confusion, but there was no reason to tell that to Nick yet. Once Judy heard the squeak of the chair Nick "borrowed" from their neighbor's desk, she drew in a deep breath and took the initiative. She didn't want to sound cold, but it came naturally. "Wilde."

And then, much to her surprise: "Look, the other night…."

The scratches stopped. She gently lowered her carrot pen to the cold steel of the desk and raised her eyes to meet his. She said nothing, but her _go on then_ stare should have been easily understood.

It was. "I'm…I didn't _mean_ to leave you there like that."

Nick was quiet as he spoke; Judy showed less restraint. "Then what did you _mean_ to do?"

"Ssh, just hang on…." His plea filled her with a special joy — until his face fell. His somber look wiped her smirk away. "…There's a lot going on right now, and a lot to consider and think about…and what I can't be thinking about is…y'know."

Try as she might, she had trouble scoffing at him. Here before her sat a fox who sounded sincere in whatever this half-apology was. And she could see as he flicked his ear in that distinctive pattern that Nick was considering many things. His honesty was quite compelling…and a little intriguing. She softened for a moment. "So it's not…."

"I told you: it's just really complicated."

And she toughened right back up. It was complicated, Judy trusted him on that; yet, Nick's comment left too many possibilities open. Judy's mind ran into each of them, and they all unsettled her. She painted discontent across her face and folded her forelimbs. "Hmph. Not much of an answer, Nicholas."

His chair was tremendously squeaky. When he leaned back and the chair made noise, it almost distracted Judy enough to get her to abandon her sour look. She held on, but Nick didn't seem to mind. In fact, he sounded a little harsh when he spoke. "Whelp, sometimes, you just have to compromise. Keep that in mind, Candidate Hopps."

Judy was quick to roll her eyes. "You and your… _election-y_ talk. Can we ever _not_ talk about the campaign?" And once she said it, everything clicked. Her eyes refocused and found Nick. It took another few moments for her mind to chase down the words. "Wait…oh, _duh_ , the campaign!"

Nick actually looked disappointed; perhaps he was worried he was losing his wily touch. "Still the second smartest bunny. Well…you are _now_ , at least. The other night, however…."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Nick. I didn't think about it…." Along with being bright, the light of the new workday was also sobering. No longer was Judy trapped in the heady space of the hotel room; the dessert and the heat and the need to get away from the terrible mammals at the gala had gone. And in this new day, she understood why Nick had done what he did that night.

With the mounting pressure and the crushing scrutiny of every creature in Zootopia, Judy sometimes forgot just how much Nick had sacrificed for her. He had already put in so much effort: the hours with his snout buried in his phone, the untold favors he had called in, the days and nights walking her through every line and smile and pawshake. She was sailing in uncharted waters. Nick had built her ship and kept it afloat. And she had nearly scuttled it.

Nick surely didn't miss this change in her attitude. But, rather than gloat, he empathized. "Nah, don't apologize. I know it's been tough. But we need to be…more careful, m'kay?"

The current of emotions ran deep between the two of them; that was more evident to Judy now than ever before. In his emerald eyes, which nearly sparkled in the bright light filling the room, she was sure that she saw the same pool of feelings that was filling within her. He was still playing with his ear, and she reveled in watching the motions: clockwise, counterclockwise, up and down. It was familiar, and it was comforting. The closeness was returning.

In this swirling mess that had become her life, she rediscovered her anchor. From her memory, she drew the warmth of his paw and felt it splash onto hers. She was bashful as she spoke. "I don't deserve you."

"No, you don't." His wry smile banished her bashfulness and earned a glare.

"Alright, _now_ I'm not sorry."

"That's more like it, Carrots."

She wasn't fully settled; her stomach was still twisted. Knowing that Nick was watching out for her no matter what, however, brought forth the bubbly personality that so befitted Judy. In a flash, she popped right up in her seat and spoke with a chipper tone that had been missing for several days. "Alright then, let's get to work!" She shuffled a few pages before resuming her conversation with Nick. "So, Mr. Campaign Manager: What news did you bring me today?"

"Well…I got the paper."

His reserved tone did not bode well for Judy. She gulped. "And?"

"You want the good news or the bad news?"

For as long as she could remember, she had almost always chosen the optimistic path. The promise of what could be typically outweighed the thoughts of what could go wrong. But today, she felt a little different and decided to follow a different path. "Bad?"

In a fascinatingly unexpected turn, Nick did not let her stray. "Okay, good news first, then. The gala was the headline."

And she was so glad Nick had done it. Still, she couldn't be too visible with her gratitude, and she really wasn't sure what could possibly have been great about the gala. Judy put on a somewhat disingenuous pout. "How is _that_ good news?"

"It's not. But it put the election front and center. Read the bottom blurb; you'll see what I mean."

She listened; toward the bottom of the article, there was a special section broken off from the main content. Within the segment was a chart with two bars: one blue, the other red. They were the exact same height – neck-and-neck.

Nick provided the context. "Lobos wasn't kidding; you guys are tied in the polling."

Suddenly, Judy Hopps felt lighter. She stared for far too long at those two bars, expecting it to change before her eyes and demolish this dream. When they stayed steady, she couldn't help her giddy squeal.

And as she looked up from the paper, she saw her partner's grin, a reflection of her own feelings. Against all odds, Nick had spearheaded a massive undertaking and shaped a farm bunny into a serious contender for the highest public office in Zootopia. This chart, as small and unassuming as it was, served as confirmation of all the effort he, Emmitt and all her volunteers had exerted. With one chart, she felt a real chance of victory wasn't so farfetched.

"Wow." Aside from her squeal, that was all she could muster.

Nick was helpful as always. "Yep."

Judy wanted to truly savor this moment; yet, she remembered that there was something else waiting for her. She suppressed her elation and prepared herself for what lay ahead. "So how do you ruin this for me?"

"…you also made Page Eight."

Judy sunk back into her chair and gulped. _Page Eight: The Goof Review_. Normally, Judy enjoyed that particular columnist's look back at something dumb a public figure had done during the past week; it typically warranted a hearty laugh. On this end of it, though, she wasn't laughing.

At first, she thought that her private moment with Nick in the hotel room may have been discovered; the thought made her blood freeze. But she eliminated that possibility just as quickly: such news would not have been relegated to the far reaches of Page Eight. She instead pored through her past week, trying to figure out where her misstep lay. _I think my last few speeches went all right. But maybe I said something? Or was there something I did at that horrid gala?_

She was too wrapped up in her own head to hear the newspaper hit the desk. But her eyes ventured downward and there, rendered in black and white, was she standing over the Lionheart shirt in the middle of the street. This particular photographer must have found themselves an enviable spot; they had caught Judy right when she first saw that shirt. Her look of confusion was really quite unflattering.

As was the headline: _Mayoral Candidate Forgets She's in Charge of Crime Scene; Spends Time Answering Reporters' Questions._

To be fair, she did try to read the whole article. She at least received credit, along with Nick, on their apparent break in the case (it seemed awfully late to get around to that, but any attention for Kyle was welcome). Then about four sentences in, she reached this gem:

 _But Officer (and mayoral candidate) Hopps didn't seem to realize she was in charge of this case. In fact, she instead took some time to answer a few softballs from a group of reporters, while at the same time leaving the evidence lying on the street. If she forgets about things like that, will she remember that she's running a city, should she prevail in the upcoming election?_

Something about it burned. It took thirty seconds of clenching her fists to realize it was the columnist's jab at her memory. Already, it was hard to keep track of everything; even her trusty carrot pen was having trouble keeping up. But, to have it laid out so plainly – and so publicly – made her blush.

"That wasn't _exactly_ how it happened…" Judy mumbled to the newspaper.

Nick helpfully answered. "Doesn't matter. This made for a better story. Y'know, it's a little funny if you…think…about it…." Judy's glare expressed her disagreement with her manager's opinion. "…sorry."

"Oh, Nick!" she lamented while pounding a paw on her desk; the steel rang with a low and hollow note. "All that work on the trail, all those speeches I made with, like, _actual_ important information…does that not matter either?"

"Sure it does. Just not on Page Eight."

"Well, then where's the coverage for _real_ campaign stuff? The gala and the poll are just super, but what about policies? Or issues? What about _my words_ , Nick?"

"Eh…." Nick crinkled the edge of the newspaper before he began flipping through it. He had once openly reminisced on how much thicker the newspaper used to be when he was a kit; the _Bunnyburrow Gazette_ had always been a four-page newsletter printed by Judy's neighbor in his garage, so she didn't have much to compare. Even so, Nick needed more than a minute to leaf through the whole paper and come up empty.

"Sorry, Carrots. Should I check the online version?"

She sighed. "Maybe later. And we do need to come back to this article. For now, though, we have some other _real work_ to do."

"Ah, yes, I see…." Nick's eyes lingered on the stacks of files. His paw moved toward the shorter stack. "I take it these ones are mine?"

Her paw was faster; her slap stopped him cold. He yelped; it was quiet and soft, but it was still a yelp. Judy grinned. "Nice try, Mr. Wilde. Here you go." The taller stack was surprisingly heavy; it took a healthy shove to push it across the desk to Nick, whose ears were drooping as the files inched closer.

"Gee, Hopps, you really shouldn't have."

She patted the topmost file. "Oh no, it's my pleasure. Dig in!"

With loud and clear displeasure, Nick got to work. Immediately, his chair squeaked as he started bouncing his leg. This would continue for most of the morning.

But Judy put it out of her mind and once again dove into the checkboxes and paragraph fields. As she read through line after line and scribbled her notes, however, Judy mind did get bored and began to wander. She ended up lost in her conversation with Arturo Lobos. Much of it was still confusing, but one particular part had vexed her for days. And since he didn't appear to be too invested in the paperwork, she thought that now would be a good time to see if Nick could offer some guidance. "Nick: Have you ever heard of the Citizens Council?"

Judy expected at least an inkling of surprise or shock; he didn't even stop scribbling. "Which one?"

" _What_?"

To Judy, it appeared that Nick was making a conscious effort to not sound too pedantic. But, she couldn't help feeling just a little bit patronized as Nick tutored her in what must have been elementary school Zootopia history. "Carrots, there used to be citizens councils all over the place. They were something started a long time ago to give _the average mammal_ a say in governing. They monitored different parts of city life and made sure there was fair representation, all that good stuff. Just about every public institution had one at some point; the one overseeing the police was especially popular if I remember correctly."

"Where did they go?"

"Over time, the seats filled up with favorite sons and daughters, kids of politicians and rich folk. They became status symbols more than actual working boards. Nobody was overseeing what they were doing anymore, so all of them were disbanded years ago by a mayor whose cousin was met with a snub when he aimed for a seat. Why do you ask?"

"Well…Lobos said they had something to do with the gala. And…other things, too." Nick could've handled it, but for some reason, she was reticent to share her full conversation. The idea that the Mammal Inclusion Initiative — which gave her this job and fulfilled her _dream_ — arose at the whim of some organization like this…she could scarcely believe it herself. Perhaps a part of her feared an acerbic snap from Nick reproving her for even listening to Arturo Lobos…and for giving Lionheart another chance to get into her head.

His wary stare hung on her a tad too long for Judy's comfort, but he eventually clicked his tongue and went back to his papers. "Then Lobos is yanking your tail, Hopps. Those councils are long gone."

"Right…okay." She didn't buy it, not fully. Even if Lobos was holding back some greater truth, the fear on his face – the cold seriousness of that terror in his eyes – was too powerful for Judy to completely dismiss. It was a lot to consider, and as she went back to her files, her mind reached out in a hundred directions. She suddenly felt overwhelmed.

Coupled with Nick's incessant noise-making, it was finally too much. She kept her cool as she rose from her chair. "I'm heading to the break room, Nick. Need anything?"

"You're taking a break before me? Well, isn't this just a day full of surprises? I'm fine, thank you, my dear partner."

"Mhm."

"Hurry back, though. I don't think I can handle this desk all by my lonesome."

"Oh yeah, I'll be back as quick as Flash."

"Good, I'll…wait, what?" She heard Nick start to protest, but her fast feet had her halfway to the break room before he could really figure it out. She thought it was clever and chuckled to herself as she cut through the aisles between desks. Her steps were clearing out the clutter in her head; she could sense her pulse and her breathing slow. Bustle in the precinct was lighter than usual; her fellow officers must have been called out on patrol. Or they were all hiding away in the break room like she was about to do.

As her mind relaxed, her partner crept back into her thoughts. She wasn't embarrassed around Nick; she was glad they had talked, as short as it may have been. He could've been mean about it (and, if she were being honest, she still held onto a little feistiness about the whole situation). But, he had been kind…he had always been kind. And that made it all the more maddening to sit next to him here and now; a break was certainly necessary.

The break room was empty, which was unusual for this time of day. Typically, four hours into their shifts, most officers discovered their coffee mugs were empty or their snacks were being left lonely and uneaten. But Judy certainly wasn't upset to have some peace and quiet as she opened the fridge and unsealed a bottle of water (sourced fresh from Bunnyburrow, or so the label claimed). It was refreshing – not as delicious as what Dad drew from the family well but passable by the standards of the thirsty rabbit.

And with the water came a sudden bout of nostalgia. She could almost hear the farmland call out from the bottle in her paw. With her eyes closed, she smelled Mom cooking carrots in her special style as it wafted out an open window, felt the soft breeze blow through her fur and bring out a shiver, and heard Dad teaching a group of her siblings how to properly till a field.

The water calmed her in a way nothing else could. She smiled as she stared at the bottle's printed logo: a field that suspiciously resembled her parents' neighbor's farmland. "I should take a day off to visit home," she whispered to her water bottle. It responded by dribbling some water onto her shirt cuff. Her picture and article in the newspaper were bad, but now, she really did feel like a goof.

On her way back to her desk, she fiddled with her waterlogged cuff. As she twisted it between her paws, she noticed a few loose threads fluttering. They had clearly snapped at some point, worn away by a hundred long nights and countless rubs of fitful paws. Naturally, this bothered Judy.

And she decided to share this with Nick. "So, Nick, I was thinking about adopting a new look. Y'know, I love this shirt of mine, but perhaps it's time for a change…."

"Hopps."

"…yeah, this cuff is looking a little frayed. That wouldn't look good to a crowd…."

" _Hopps_."

"…and maybe these pants, too, because I think they have seen better days…."

" _JUDY_!"

"Huh? What?" She looked up from her frayed cuff and old pants to a Nick who wore a frown; it was a big, ugly frown that seemed tremendously out of place on his face. Clutched in his paw was the receiver for the landline phone. That was never good.

"They found him."

Judy wasn't one to frighten easily. But when it did happen, she would clearly memorize each instance and how it had felt. Out of those few short memories, there was one that definitely stood out: the Night Howler train incident. It would probably soon be brought back into the spotlight as the campaign wore on, but the very peculiar sense of dread which numbed her every nerve as the train car had approached the solid wall didn't need to be rediscovered; it had never left. And as she stood before Nick, she once again felt herself barreling down on the wall.

"Who are you talking about?"

And as the train collided — as her body numbed — she watched Nick's eyes dull and drift away. "They found Kyle Mansoa."

#

* * *

 _And Chapter 4 has come to a close! I think we covered a lot here, and it's opened a lot of doors for what's to come. The first part of Chapter 5 is next :). And keep an eye out for a new drabble in a few days on Off The Trail1_


	14. Chapter 5: Part I

**_A/N:_** _Hello fellow Zootopians! To brighten your Monday, I have another Part of "Run" to share with all of you. This one does get pretty serious, as it's a big moment of reckoning for Judy. But, we also get to see some inspiring leadership from her! I hope you enjoy._

 _My deepest thanks to **winerp** and **TheCatweazle** for their continued excellent work in proofing this story. They're top-notch, and I am so grateful to have their help in making this story the best it can be!_

 _And my thanks to our most recent reviewers for their always-appreciated thoughts, opinions, ideas, and excitement. Thank you to **AngloFalcon, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, HawkTooth, Omnitrix 12, Berserker88,** and **AeonFeral** for sharing your thoughts and feelings with me!_

 _And a huge thank you to all of you who fave, follow, and read this story! It's been a blast to be part of such a wonderful community, and I'm excited by what the future holds!_

 _Happy reading,_

 _Euphonemes_

 _P.S. Another thank you, too, to **Red Velvet Panda** for her outstanding work on the new "Run" cover! It's really quite something :D._

* * *

 _Run_

 _Name: Mansoa, Kyle Z._

 _Species: Spotted hyena (Crocuta crocuta)_

 _Age: 20 years_

 _Height: 28 inches_

 _Weight: Not disclosed_

 _Occupation: Political staffer_

 _Marital Status: Single_

 _Physical appearance..._

No matter how many times she read it, the information in the file stayed the same. She was sitting in the back seat of the cruiser, open file in paw, as she waited for Nick to take the first look around. The file's thin pages fluttered in the breeze kicked up by arriving cruisers and officers scattering to contain the scene.

But, it was too late; the gaggle of reporters was already spoiling everything. It was impressive, really, how quickly the reporters had arrived. The crime scene was on the very edge of Sahara Square, almost engulfed by the shadows of the district's border wall. Some media mammals must have been using police-band radios and rapid-deployment camera crews; that was the only logical explanation for how these urbane _professionals_ were haunting a place like this.

Her fellow officers tried their best to hold back the swinging microphones and flashing cameras. Judy was grateful for their efforts. She knew full well that none of these journalists were here for Kyle; no, much like with the shirt, they waited in the wings while snapping photos of Candidate Hopps at the scene to give them something to poke fun at in the paper tomorrow.

But, despite the threat of mockery, Officer Hopps still had a job to do…a job she was not ready to do. She nestled into the surprisingly plush back seat of their cruiser and let the rays of sun that were demolishing a wall of clouds warm her body. She hadn't stopped shivering since Nick had delivered the news. She could still see how tightly he had clutched the landline receiver; she had half-expected his fur to blanch.

A page escaped its manila berth and was whipped into the air. She made for it as it passed by her ear, but her fast paw punched right through the flimsy paper. She pouted as she spun her paw and watched the tatters of Kyle Mansoa's personal information flit about. It was remarkable, really, how fragile this little sheet was.

"You okay?"

In stark contrast, Nick's eyes were so solid. While she had been buried in the details of Mansoa's life, Nick had slid up next to her, swishing his tail as he guarded her from the camera lenses begging for their subject. On the soft wind, she picked up his mesmerizing cologne, which just overlaid the scent of warm asphalt and the musk of a hundred onlookers braving the hot sun. She studied his eyes and watched his emerald irises scan every inch of her.

She tried to play it as cool as he did. But her voice was as weak as her smile. "Yeah. Thanks."

"…Judy."

Nick was not buying it; that much was certain. But there in the back seat, Judy didn't know what else could be said. As their cruiser had wound its way through noonday traffic to reach the scene, with Nick blaring the siren (with the tiniest hint of glee in his eyes, despite the circumstances), Judy had watched the city outside the window. The passersby stared at their cruiser with an assortment of looks: confusion, annoyance, anger, indifference – that one was the worst.

Yet, indifference was all she wanted now. She knew she was incapable of it; she cared too greatly about…well, everything. But she was tired of her stomach hurting and her fists clenching for every moment of the ride. Even now, her exhausted muscles quivered as they tried to hold a simple manila folder…or as her eyes fought to hold back a spring of tears.

How to share this with Nick, though, still eluded her. "Nick, I don't know what to…do, or say, or…."

"Stop." His paw was warm as he forced her tightly balled fist open. "Relax."

 _Relax_ was not a command she would have heeded under the best of circumstances; here and now, it ignited her temper. Her shivers subsided, and she gazed into the very heart of her partner. A few fellow officers' heads peeked back at her while she forcefully asked, "How, Nick? How do I _relax_ right now! I mean, how do you stay like…like _this_?" She swept a paw over him, the omnipresent coolness clear in his unwavering stare. His attitude could frustrate her more often than she would ever care to admit, but there was something about the way he could stand there and not _care_ about everything falling apart…it seemed _wrong_.

Even as he delivered his answer, there was no flicker of emotion, no heat like the one that burned within her. "Practice."

She scoffed; it was an arrogant sound, but she was in no mood to care. "Well, now it's a little late to practice, isn't it?"

"It's never too late, Hopps." He said it calmly, as she had expected. Yet, he injected sincerity into it; she could tell by the pattern of crinkles in his snout. Now, Nick could be (and usually was) a pest and could easily drive Judy mad enough to very nearly tear the fur from the tips of her ears. Beneath that shell of flippant annoyance, however, was a fox who meant what he said. And Judy oftentimes put her faith in that.

While she had been staring at his snout, Nick's paw had wiggled its way further into hers. She felt herself starting to blush — at least that was the case until he came away with a torn piece of Mansoa's file. "Hmm, let's see what you have here."

The blood immediately retreated from her cheeks; an iciness gripped every inch of her body. "No! Give that back!"

Her command went unheeded. When he had taken the paper, he had put on the tiniest of smirks; in her tumult of emotions, Judy momentarily found it comforting. But as his eyes passed over the paper, his smirk vanished entirely. "How many times have you read this?"

She had lost count. "Not enough, Nick. Not enough."

His nose twitched; she rarely saw that from him. Rabbits expressed a great many things with their noses, but foxes…not so much, at least as far as she knew. And yet Judy, who was well-versed in reading nose-twitches, saw it clearly: he had no idea what to say.

She was about to tell him that it was alright; that she didn't need him to say anything. Her own nose twitched in a way that should have communicated that message; Nick, it seemed, was less literate than she was. "Okay, Officer Hopps. Tell you what: Let's get focused and go to work now." He crumpled up the flimsy paper and tossed it over his shoulder. Judy watched it tumble down the road and get stuck under their cruiser's front tire.

She successfully held her tears at bay and even managed a little smile for Nick. "Litterbug."

"Oh, come on, it'll be good." He pointed at the wad of paper trapped in her paw. "Just let it go."

He sounded so sure. And so she listened. The shreds of Kyle Mansoa's file fluttered away on typewritten wings, and Judy followed Nick toward a clump of officers encircling the entrance to the crime scene.

Somehow, the sun actually felt hotter in the alleyway where Nick and Judy would find their evidence. It seemed paradoxical: the shade of the abandoned buildings that was cast over this unkempt alley should have kept the area cool. Instead, the broken concrete and the decaying brick walls replete with graffiti felt like a furnace, a crucible meant to melt down any citizen foolish enough to stray from the city proper.

From her spot in the cruiser, Judy had watched Nick spring into action. He had already accomplished some impressive reconnaissance work: he had immediately taken charge of the scene and gathered all the pertinent details. While she had wasted her time in the back seat, Nick had taken the wheel; Judy was duly impressed by him and rather ashamed of herself.

So, it was about time that she got to it. "Where was he found?"

Nick waved his paw in the general vicinity of one of the building's brick exterior walls. About eight feet from the ground, Judy read some graffiti lazily scribbled in an ugly blue: _Better dead than pred._

 _Charming_ , she thought as she managed to keep the comment to herself. "And how did they find him?"

"Slumped against this wall here. The officers had to drag him to the ambulance; he couldn't speak, let alone move."

The spot itself was unremarkable: aside from the drag marks that officers had cut into a thin layer of dust coating the ground, there was nothing else around. It was scarily devoid of detritus or refuse, even as she could see crushed cups and food containers littering the rest of the alleyway. "How long?"

Nick hummed for a few seconds as he flipped through his notebook — it was the first time Judy had ever seen him use it for something other than a doodling pad. "Depends on what you mean by your question. Out here? They're estimating about twelve hours. In total…some beat cops have been dogging him for an unpaid tab at a dive in the Rainforest District; the place is owned by some lieutenant's older brother. From what they've gathered, our friend Kyle went on a fourteen day, eh, excursion."

She audibly gasped; it just didn't seem possible. "Two _weeks_? There's no way anyone could keep watering-hole-hopping for that long."

Nick gave her a half-committed nod as he pawed through another page or two or notes. "Well, like Lobos said, Mr. Mansoa enjoyed the good times at only the _finest_ of establishments. I don't know if he had the money for it, which is probably why he switched quickly between watering holes, never staying more than a day at each. And he did not choose his favorites. In fact, it looks like he went out of his way to find the strangest places — probably to avoid the Rainforest District cops."

 _And anyone he might know for that matter._ She imagined the picture: the hyena, sitting alone on the fourteenth day, with a dozen empty glasses that were dull in smoky and dim lights. His eyes would be dull, too, lost in whatever drove him from one place to the next; was it anger? Was he hiding? From whom? Creditors…associates of mob bosses…himself?

Of everything she imagined for Kyle Mansoa, she understood his loneliness best of all. He was alone when all of this happened; he was alone when he was dragged out here and left overnight, just like the crushed cups that littered the ground a few yards away. A tear leaked through her dam and salted the fine fur around her eye. "And when they found him, was he…hurt, or…."

Nick took far too long to start his answer; two more tears slid down her face before he began. "On the outside, he just had a few scrapes and the odd bruise here and there. But…whatever the drink of choice at his most recent stop has been, it did a number on him." He paused. She counted his breaths: three, deep and relaxing. Hers were short and tense. "Hopps, the medics on the ambulance aren't sure they can wake him up."

She truly thought she had misheard him. Her paw wiped her face dry, and she spun back to him. "What?"

"He was pretty much done for when they arrived. Fourteen days' worth of _fun_ has done a lot of damage to every organ he's got. The medics had to put him in a medically-induced coma to try to save as much as they can, but even so…."

Finding words was like yanking stubborn carrots from hard and dry soil. In the rising heat of this crucible, she almost started sweating as she spoke. "So, he's…."

"He could recover, maybe. They just don't know yet. But Hopps…this is probably the end of this case. Even if he wakes up, I don't think he'll remember anything about this. Without him, there's…nowhere to go with it on our end. Hmph, I can't imagine what Lobos will do with this."

More tears were hammering on the dam; she shut her eyes, just for a few seconds. The dirty alley, the graffiti, the buildings, the hot sun, she needed it all to go away. Her water bottle with the Bunnyburrow farm imprint rested in the glove box of her cruiser. She wondered if she could dodge the cameras long enough to leap into her car and lose herself in the water bottle and the memories of a happier place.

Instead, she opened her eyes and found Nick waiting. His nose was steady; maybe he had figured out that Judy could read it. But the way he now stood with a little more straightness told her plenty. Perhaps she had finally lit the flame within him. Or maybe she had failed to see it this whole time: he _did_ care about what happened here, or at least he cared what she thought and felt. And she thought and felt a lot.

Nick concluded his report, and her mind sat on the information for several long and hot seconds. The crucible was threatening to melt her down into rabbit slag, leaving only the remnants of a once-proud police officer who had accomplished so much so quickly. And media mammals waited outside the alley to photograph the remnants of Judy Hopps and parade them around on television and in print. She needed something — _anything_ — to solidify her.

And there, standing before her with his paw still firmly clutching his pen, was that something she needed. She let her gaze rest on Nick before looking toward the now-clear and blazing blue sky. His words, read straight from the notepad, poured into her detective mind, and she began to analyze his report line by line. Something about this place felt wrong; it had bothered her from the time she had arrived. And now, as she looked at Nick, a welcome clarity opened her mind to new possibilities. Pieces emerged, and she grabbed these disparate elements that she had not seen these past few weeks and put them together. Combinations arose and fell apart, thousands at a time. It must have been terrifying for Nick to watch the many contortions her face went through as she thought.

And when she reached the last line and thought about what Lobos would do with this, something finally came together; it had to fit, it made too much sense. Judy made a note to curse herself later, when she was alone and could properly berate her own stupidity. _How could he have bamboozled me so well?_

She blinked and found Nick's wide-eyed stare. Now would be the time to bring him into it. "No…this is too convenient. This can't be right. This can't be how it ends. Oh, how could I miss it? I'm such a _dumb_ bunny."

His eyebrow nearly launched off his face. "Hopps? What are you talking about?"

For some time now, Judy had been practicing how to speak more slowly and rhythmically. It had been one of the criticisms levied against her by Nick, volunteers, and the public alike. It took a dedicated effort to keep the right pace and to monitor her speed. All of that disappeared as she rapidly laid out her process:

"Nick, think about it: Lobos tells us that Kyle likes to have a lot of fun and that he can disappear for days at a time. He gives us a place to start…and he knew we'd come up empty. And when that happened, he also knew we'd consider it to be ridiculous and discount the whole idea. But still the tip is credible enough, so two weeks later, when Mansoa shows up in this state, Lobos can say he helped and that we just didn't do our jobs properly. We look like chumps, and he can be the hero — or at least the one who outsmarted us as he performed his civic duty."

She considered taking a breath but was scared that her train of thought would suddenly derail. "And if Lobos had a reason to go after Kyle, this would make for a _great_ way to get rid of him. Kyle has been discredited; he's a joke now, a punchline for the columnists. If he had something to say — if there's a deeper reason that made Lobos worry about him — then that has been resolved with this. Or he would think that to be case, but now that we're onto him, we can—"

Her words were halted; Nick's paw was clamped tightly over her mouth. Her cheeks ballooned as she tried to keep going. But, Nick was tenacious. "Hold it right there, partner. Now, I admire your sudden and wonderful change of heart on our pal, Lobos. And I know I'm the _last_ mammal who should be telling you this, but be careful with your words."

Her imprisoned almost-words escaped in a puff of air once Nick relinquished his grip. She recovered quickly. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"I didn't say that. But remember: what you say _matters_. There are a hundred microphones right over there, and they will record every word you utter. It will be printed in papers and stuck up on websites in minutes. What you say can have…implications."

For a brief period, Judy did not recognize the fox standing before her. Her paws went up as she rolled her eyes. "Oh, c'mon, Nick, who cares about them? This has foul play written _all_ over it — I know you see it!"

He tapped on his notepad; it made an annoying little scrunching sound. "That's not what every other officer involved has said. They're pretty confident he did this to himself."

" _Of course_ they are, Nick! They don't know Lobos like _we_ do. Something is wrong here, Nick; we can't just write it off!"

Nick's nose was twitching again; it was the same pattern as before. Confident she had made her point, she let her shoulders drop an inch. She felt the concrete on her heels; in the heat of the moment, she had risen to her tiptoes, barely staying on the ground as she rattled off her theory.

When he spoke, he kept his voice low and gravelly. "Okay, Hopps, sure, I can see why you'd believe that. And y'know, I think you might be onto something. When we get out of here, let's go through it in more detail. But please, do _not_ mention this to anyone, especially—"

"Hopps. Wilde. Get over here. _Now_."

The alleyway felt like it chilled immediately; the imposing shadow of Chief Bogo often had that effect. With a precision typically reserved for cadets when they performed their graduation parade, she executed an about-face and came to attention at the feet of her commanding officer. In an impressive display of nonchalance, Nick swung around and resumed his usual apathetic stance. For once, it did not seem to bother the chief.

When Bogo spoke, Judy imagined Mom at her cutting board, slicing into a carrot over and over again until a bunch of perfectly even slivers remained. Judy understood how that carrot must have felt. "I have been briefed by the officers who found Kyle Mansoa…the officers who are _not_ you two."

 _This isn't right!_ Judy's mind screamed. Her mouth refused to give voice to the thought; in fact, her mouth refused to do much of anything. She hated feeling like that carrot but was unsure how to escape the cutting board. "Sir, I—"

"Quiet, Hopps." It wasn't nasty or cruel; rather, Bogo sounded so very tired. That deflated Judy more than anything. "The other officers who found Kyle Mansoa will begin their reports, and this will require a few days. Our caseload is rather light at the moment, so I am going to suggest to you and your partner that you take a few days off as the paperwork is completed. I am now going to step in front of those reporters and deliver the news. We will discuss what comes next after your leave."

Nick rapidly appeased the boss. "Great, thanks, Chief. Now, we'll just be going…." She felt his paw dance onto her shoulder; his fur shook as he trembled.

Chief Bogo executed a terrifyingly curt nod, turned, and began to walk away. While Nick quickly gave up, Judy could not abide that. She shoved Nick's paw off her shoulder and stepped forward. The carrot sliced back. "Chief, wait!" And he waited. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, she had Chief Bogo's attention; she decided to make the most of it. "I know there's more at play here than we can see – I can feel it!"

She could clearly pick out Nick's sharp inhale. But she was convinced Chief Bogo needed to know. She implored her commander: "We need to—"

"No, Hopps. You simply missed it."

"What?"

Bogo did not turn around; he spoke to the air, which carried a woeful message to Judy. "There was some clue or key piece of evidence that you missed. You've been under a great deal of stress. And you missed something. It happens. But there is nothing more to it."

Judy stomped her foot; a small cloud of dust arose and hovered close to the ground. "But sir! Others are involved, I know it!"

"Who? Lobos?" With two thundering steps, Bogo cleared the distance between them, and the buffalo's steaming nose was inches from hers. Now the alley was positively frigid. She almost started shivering as Bogo lowered and envenomed his voice. "Yes, I heard you. And you need to think _very carefully_ before you accuse the current head of city government and your chief political rival of being involved in something like this. Your may have been right about Lionheart, but that does _not_ give you license to do it again, especially not with just your hunch. Until that changes, keep your theory to yourself. Do you understand me, Hopps?"

Every fiber of her being begged for Judy to fight him. She wanted to swing back, to tell her whole theory again and make him believe. But, as Bogo's gaze cut through her eyes and into the wall behind her, she let her ears droop down. "…yessir."

He rose and resumed his march to the reporters. Over his shoulder, he said, "Good. Now, then: Take the few days off that I am offering you. Do it before it becomes an order."

"…okay, sir."

It was not okay, but she stood silently as Bogo stormed off to discuss the failure of ZPD to find this missing mammal. He would try to take the blame for it; it was his job, sure, but he really did care for the officers under his command. Sadly, he would fail at this. Already, she knew the reporters would be salivating as they waited for Judy.

Nick knew this too, she could tell. His paw again found her shoulder, and he whispered softly. "So, not to add more to the pile, Carrots, but the media will be expecting a statement."

It didn't click at first. She eyed Nick with a weird suspicion. "I can't talk about the case, Nick. Neither of us can; that's Bogo's job."

He shook his head, and his eyelids hid his emerald irises. "You misunderstand: They need a statement from _Candidate_ Hopps, not Officer Hopps."

The world went silent; Judy could hear only her heartbeat. Rabbits had fast heartbeats, but hers now had to be dangerously quick. It pulsed in her ears, the steady and speedy thumping drowning out the gaggle of reporters, the sounds of the city, and Nick talking about something. Once she could manage it, Judy stepped away from him. "Nick, don't make me go out there."

His voice rose over her heartbeat. "You need to get out there, Carrots. Your public awaits." His humor was half-hearted and flat, and his smirk was dull and bleak.

She took another step back. "…I can't."

And Nick took three steps forward; he was practically on top of her now. "Hopps, they are waiting for you. And you'll need to give them something for the sake of our campaign. You want to win this election, right?"

 _Win this election_. She heard it, and the sound of her heartbeat vanished. Nick's cologne drifted by her nose, but she ignored it. She concentrated instead on the small scar that ran along the side of his snout. He had told her the story about it long ago, but she couldn't recall it now. But, she knew whatever story he had told her was missing something; she had felt the pause and gap that Nick had chosen to insert. The scar hid more than she knew.

It was a feeling that she had long forgotten about Nick, but one that surged back into her mind as he stood there, the tips of his fur almost touching hers. And she wondered what else could be hiding under the surface, what other pauses and gaps Nick chooses to insert. It seemed that he had chosen to at least ignore the reason why she had wanted to begin this whole endeavor; maybe she needed to remind him: "I _want_ to help people, Nick. That's why I started this."

She had tried to make it sound cold, but her words had warbled just a tad. Nick was too keen not to notice; he pushed back. "Well, Hopps, I've been trying to help you _win_. I haven't been killing my phone's battery for the sake of amusement. You want to help people, that's great, but you need to _win_ first to do that. And what's going on here, this is the kind of stuff that happens on the trail. You need to face it head-on before someone else does it for you."

Her ire evaporated; she was too exhausted to maintain it for long, anyway. Her knees went weak, and she wobbled. "…Nick…"

Nick sounded unmoved. "Hopps."

And she was on the ground. The dam had burst; her fur dampened as she cried. "No! No, Nick. I can't face them, not like this."

Nick went to the ground with her; his hot breath splashed across her cheek. "Judy." She paused between sobs and heard him out. "It's moments like these that separate our true leaders from the rest of the pack. Yes, this is bad. And yes, it is no fun to go out there and tell everyone that we failed."

Her tears were like liquid fire as they rushed down her cheeks. She watched them smolder in open air as she shook her head and sent watery beads flying. "But Nick! We didn't—"

"We failed. And now we must own this mistake. When you become mayor, you'll have to do this every day, and not just for your own mistakes, but also everyone else's — and for things that you don't believe are mistakes at all. Everyone will look at you when things don't go right, and things will always not go right. But you have a duty to everyone out there to be the leader they need."

The feeling nagged; there were some things Nick was holding back. But, he did not pause or insert gaps as he told her this. It was all so confusing. Moments ago, there loomed over her a Nick who hid things from her, who told half-truths about the scars he bore. And now, there lay next to her a Nick who believed in Judy Hopps, who told her everything she was and could be.

With more time, she could revisit it. She could put her powerful mind to work and think through everything. But in the alleyway, all she wanted to do was leave. She chose the Nick lying next to her. She sniffled a few times and, with a watery voice, she joked, "When did you get so smart, Nick?"

She actually enjoyed seeing his smirk. "I've always been this smart, my dear partner. Maybe you need to pay a little more attention. Now c'mon, let's get you out there." He rose first and pulled her to her feet. "And please, _please_ , stick to the script that I'll scribble up for you, okay?"

As she dried her eyes and cleared her throat, she envisioned a rough copy of some of the lines that Nick would present her with:

 _While we cannot discuss an ongoing investigation, I'm sure most of you have gathered the circumstances under which Mr. Mansoa was found. We are shocked, too, by the discovery of Mr. Mansoa and pledge to do everything in our power to close the book on this dreadful incident._

 _This case goes to show how important it is to provide a chance to every citizen, to give them the opportunity to succeed and to protect those who are left most vulnerable. And it has made me more determined in my mission to bring that opportunity and fairness to every citizen — to make sure that no one is so utterly lost again._

 _Though we did not get it right this time, we will redouble our efforts in working to make Zootopia a place for all mammals to find themselves._

"Okay."

Nick took a minute to scribble some words on his notepad; that pen of his was getting a workout. She closed her eyes and listened to the scratches; it was the only sound she could hear. She hummed a little melody, her Mom's favorite. Mom would sing it as she chopped carrots in the kitchen. Judy didn't have quite the wide vocal range as her mother, but her humming made do.

"Alright, here you are." He handed her a piece of paper, crumpled along the edges. She skimmed it; she had been correct regarding the direction her words would take. Nick didn't wait for her to say anything. "And here we go."

Together, they emerged from the alleyway. The officers could not hold back the media mob any longer. They spilled forth, the wave of musk intensifying after spending so long in the hot sun. She could hear the words in her head, and she arranged them as best she could. She drew in a deep breath; it tasted bitter. Judy clenched her fist as the flashbulbs snapped and the roar of the public enveloped her.

* * *

 _It has been a rough one for Judy recently. Perhaps a day off would do her some good. Of course, Judy may not be one who enjoys an "optional" break :D. We shall see soon enough. I hope you enjoyed this Part!_


	15. Chapter 5: Part II

**_A/N:_** _Alright, here's another section of "Run" for your reading pleasure. It's an important piece where Judy figures out just how hard it is to be a candidate. Please let me know what you think!_

 _As always, a big thank you to **winerp** and **TheCatweazle** for beta-reading. Extra points to winerp this time: the section went through a couple big revisions, and your help in that process was tremendous!_

 _Thank you to **Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps** , **HawkTooth** , **Berserker88** , and **AngloFalcon** for your thoughts and ideas in your reviews. Our discussions have helped shape a stronger and livelier story, and I'm grateful for everything!_

 _And thank you to all of you who read, fave, and follow. I'm excited to take this journey with you!_

 _Happy reading,_

 _Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

Three quick taps made three small notes. _Staccato_ , Mom would call it. She had never been a musician, but Mom's singing had enraptured Judy as far back as she could remember. Perhaps her terminology wasn't exactly right — and maybe Mom's humming wasn't totally in key — but sharing in a melody together was one of the sweetest memories Judy had.

And this window was ruining her time in her memories. She decided to berate it. "This window is flat."

She didn't need to see Nick's eyes to know how he would be looking at her. It was pretty sunny outside, just barely enough light to warrant the humongous sunglasses that Nick sported as they sat in the cruiser (which they had been graciously allowed to keep while on leave). "I certainly hope so."

She scoffed as she tapped the window two more times. "No, the sound it makes when I hit it, I mean. The note is flat."

Maybe Nick's mother did not teach him about music. But, given the way Nick spoke about her, that would be quite shocking. No, it was more likely that Nick simply hadn't listened to those lessons, formal or otherwise. Or perhaps he wasn't listening to the sound of the window as she gave it one more solid tap.

Regardless, it seemed like he was listening to Judy. A touch of concern slipped into his tone. "You alright there, Carrots?"

"I'm…fine. I'm sure I'm fine." She wasn't sure, of course. As she had so often during this campaign, she was again questioning what _sure_ really meant. Everything in the past day — and potentially extending back to the day she (or, rather, Nick operating through Finnick) first announced her candidacy — had challenged her in ways she never imagined. She had nearly succumbed to raw emotion again once she finished making her statement to the press on Mansoa. Nick had shielded her once more, hiding her glistening lavender eyes from the flashbulbs unleashing a lightning storm on an already smoldering hot day.

"Okay then." Today, however, Nick seemed eager to change the subject; there would be no recap in the cruiser. The silence between them persisted only for four or five seconds before he clicked his tongue. "Y'know, I thought I said that I'd never take you outta those blues."

And she was glad he had decided to try a different path. " _You_ didn't, Nicholas." It was actually hard to read Nick's total expression with those shades obscuring his eyes. She figured he wasn't serious — at least, not completely serious — but he sounded a little taken aback at her sudden change of wardrobe.

If she were being totally honest, she hadn't had a clue where to start. Snapping taut her pressed cuffs and affixing that shining badge to her chest had become so routine that her paws just flailed manically through her closet for several minutes this morning, aimlessly snagging a bunch of dresses, blouses, and who knows what else. Days away from the office were tough for Judy Hopps.

Fortunately, Mom had been a phone call away. News traveled slowly in the farmland; the Bunnyburrow Gazette was running a few issues behind while its publisher dealt with some wilting carrots. So, Judy had given Mom the scoop and, like always, Mom had made things better:

 _Mom, I've never felt so stupid in my life._

 _Oh, Judy, you're not stupid. Nobody said being a police officer would be easy. Plus, with everything else you're doing, it's a miracle you're even standing right now!_

 _I guess…but I feel terrible about it._

 _Alright then, little one. What are you going to do about it?_

… _I don't know… Oh,_ _Mom!_

Judy and her mother had gone through at least three more cycles of this. It had been gut-wrenching to admit her faults to Mom, and her kindness and unconditional love and understanding had made everything sting more painfully in Judy's belly. A black cloud of disappointment had hung over Judy's head…although, slowly, Mom's cheeriness did blow it away.

And after another bawling session from Judy, Bonnie had finally gotten through:

 _Okay, Judy. I think you should take a break like your chief friend told you to._

 _He's_ not _my friend_ _—_

 _Even so, that's what I would do. But I know you, and I know you and breaks never really got along. So perk up those ears, put on a new outfit, and get your fluffy keister back out there._

Judy had dried her eyes and chuckled as she revealed that was exactly what she needed help with and was the original reason she had called. Picking out a flowing evening gown had been one thing, but Judy hadn't worn professional attire aside from her ZPD uniform since…well, since before she had joined the force.

But Mom had a keen eye for color and style. Judy had followed her mother's guidance and, out of the heap, extricated a red shirt and dark blue jacket and then completed her ensemble from there. Mom had exclaimed that it really popped while Judy had just nodded along and toyed with the wide lapel that scratched at her neck — not painfully, but it had been just annoying enough to distract her from Mom's unyielding compliments, delivered with an equally unyielding cheeriness.

Beyond the itch, Judy hadn't really felt any different. Although, after Mom hung up, she had taken some time to admire herself in the mirror – not for vanity's sake, but only to ensure she had a good fit with this outfit. And she had noticed that when she thrust forward her shoulder and furrowed her brow exactly right, she looked like a bunny who was fit to air on the six o'clock evening news. She liked the view.

Strangely, when Nick swung by her apartment to pick her up for their short campaign tour today, he had said the exact same thing that Mom did. And as they now sat in the front seats of their cruiser, waiting for the proper moment to enter the venue, Judy once again fussed over her jacket's wide lapel and wondered what exactly "popped" meant.

"You look fine."

Nick had somehow hopped into her head and stolen her thought, which at the moment was not a terribly comfortable feeling. She checked the rearview mirror to make sure her nose wasn't talking too loudly with its twitches. Satisfied that her nose was steady, she then thought that Nick was really getting the hang of reading his partner. That idea warmed her and felt as a welcomed change from the near-omnipresent doubt that had trapped her mind lately.

His compliment warmed her, too. She turned and hid her smile when she spoke. "You think so?"

He brought some playfulness to the cruiser as he rested his paw against his forehead with the drama of a prima donna; his faux agony almost pulled a laugh out of Judy. "As much as it _pains_ me to say it, you chose well, Candidate Hopps."

Her jacket's lapels snapped into place as she tugged on her outfit. "Yeah, I...had some help."

"I figured as much. No _way_ you'd pick that out on your own."

Playful or not, Judy was mildly offended. "Oh yeah?"

He flicked his shades down, and emerald irises crested over the polarized lenses. There was an intensity in them that Judy could not avoid; it was an intensity that came with absolute certainty. "Yeah."

Really, to Judy, it didn't matter that he was right, but rather how he showed that he _knew_ he was right. Even so, it proved difficult to argue with him. She simply crossed her forelimbs and pouted. "Hmph."

The shades returned to their rightful place as he chuckled. "Well, even though your mom dressed you – and I know it was her because, for all his wonderful qualities, Stu is not a fashion expert – I still think it's worth snapping a picture. Who knows? Maybe the volunteers can make a better poster out of you yet."

She remembered her look in the mirror and found herself suddenly excited at the proposition. Now, she enjoyed her smiling mug from her first day at ZPD, but in this combination of red and blue, she felt... _proper_. She thought she could almost take on that gala again, refreshed with her new look. _Another day, perhaps_ , she mused as Nick tapped on her shoulder.

"Alright, let's get your head in the game, Hopps. I know it's been rough recently, but getting you back on the trail will be good. Trust me." His grin didn't really engender much trust, but she accepted the spirit in which it was given.

"Yeah, I…I guess it's a good distraction." A heat began to build up around her collar. She peeked in the rearview mirror to see if that lapel was irritating her again, but she discovered instead that she was blushing. It could have been nervousness, or maybe (more likely) embarrassment. Nick had turned off the radio in the cruiser — a merciful act. Coverage on television, radio and print had been relentless. And it had been cruel.

Those gala mammals had a lot in common with this city's reporters:

 _Hero Cop Blows Biggest Case of Year_

 _Is She Our Candidate? Ask Kyle Mansoa._

 _Politicking and Policing: Too Much for Hopps?_

Her worrying about Mansoa had almost burned a hole through her stomach. And she winced at the sharp pains that jabbed her tender belly when she read each headline. The reporters were out for blood, it seemed, and Judy could not slake their thirst. Nick could've saved himself a page of his notebook — not one word of her statement appeared in any article. Instead, columnists appeased themselves and their readers with some self-righteous vitriol. Nick had persuaded her not to cancel her three subscriptions: "it wouldn't look too good," he had asserted.

Though, as their cruiser sat outside a small community center, she wondered if optics were a moot point. The center's managing group had reached out to Judy's campaign only recently (but definitely before the Mansoa Debacle, as she and every news reporter in Zootopia had taken to calling it). The place was situated in an area that hadn't seen much love from the Lobos Administration. From the gaggle of mammals milling around in front of the center's rather dingy glass façade, however, she thought they may want to take out some frustration on any candidate who walked through the door. She wasn't entirely sure how her news coverage had played out here, but her stomach hurt as she readied herself to find out.

She wondered how he felt about it. "They look...scary, Nick."

If he were worried, he hid it well. "I imagine they _are_ scary, Hopps. Good thing we're sending you in there."

She knew he was joking, but that did not stop her stomach from clenching up even tighter than before. Of course, she wondered how much of her reticence came from seeing this crowd and how much originated from remembering the events that had transpired the day before. She shivered as she recalled Bogo's shadow being cast over her. "…I'm not feeling all that distracted anymore."

"Too much on your mind, Candidate Hopps?"

She nodded while squeezing her paws. When Bogo had "asked" them to take a short leave, he had severed every connection they had with the case. All of the evidence stayed locked up in their work desks. They were not in the loop on any follow-up actions. Judy wasn't even able to call the hospital to get Mansoa's room number so she could send the bouquet of flowers she had selected online. For most mammals, such removal from the system would be welcomed; they found being unplugged to be a gift. But, as she had demonstrated many times before, Judy was not like most mammals. For her, the removal felt like a curse.

Determined to pry herself from inaction, Judy thought that Nick might be game for some brainstorming. Thinking through the pieces of a good case was something that was truly distracting for her. "So...what do you think about Lobos being involved in—"

To her great surprise, Nicholas Wilde was suddenly an adherent to the rules. He stopped her with his raised paw. "I thought we were supposed to be taking a break, Carrots."

Nick's oddly cautious behavior did not resolve the feeling roiling in her stomach. He was examining the crowd through the window as he spoke, so Judy stared at the back of his head. A few pieces of fur stuck out at odd angles, rigid, as if he were nervous about something. He seemed pretty confident about her stop here, and he hadn't given any indication of something being amiss. Yet, clearly, Nick was bothered by some specter.

Judy tried to banish that specter by being as flippant in her pleas as possible, as it would probably be the only way she'd get any real reaction out of Nick. "Oh, please, Nick. Bogo just _had_ to say that! He knows we're still gonna be puzzling it over…though maybe it'd be best not to tell him just yet."

She noticed the fur settling back down as he turned to her. Given this evidence, Judy felt she had chosen her words wisely, and shortly thereafter, the knowing smirk appeared as confirmation. "Keeping secrets, eh? I can do that. Alright then, Carrots, I'll bite. What's going on in that fluffy little head of yours?"

She got out about a syllable of her theory before she defensively patted the top of her head. She scrunched her face while she replied, "It's not that fluffy."

"It's pretty fluffy."

He had her flustered; she'd never tell him that, but her words escaped her momentarily as she bottled up some rapidly rising frustration. "Would you…." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply while Nick chuckled incessantly. "Fine. Okay, so, we need to get closer to Lobos. There's something he's hiding."

He actually snorted. "Wow, outstanding detective work there."

A few drops of frustration leaked out from her normally tight seal. "Zip it, Nick!" He gave her a sly wink, and with a leery look on her face, she continued. "But there's something big going on, and I think Lobos is the key to it. So we'll need to find a way to—"

The window warped under the pressure of a hammering paw; Judy thought for sure it would shatter and bathe her in a thousand minuscule shards. And, somewhat maddeningly, the window rang out in a perfectly-tuned note. As they had been chatting, offshoots of the crowd had migrated over to the vehicle. Judy and Nick found their cruiser surrounded by at least a dozen rather unpleasant-looking mammals.

Judy had never felt unsafe in their cruiser, but in this moment, that almost changed for her. Nick, on the other hand, sounded unperturbed (though a part of her wished he'd share in her concern). "Hmm, they're getting restless outside. I think your theorizing will need to wait. Shall we go and appease them now, my dear candidate?"

As her not-that-fluffy head slipped back into the machinations of her theory, she realized how terrible she felt when she was unable to complete her thoughts. Her distraction had been working right up until reality decided to so rudely intrude on her moment of concentration and thought. She knew what answer she actually wanted to give to Nick, and it involved several more (and creative) uses of the word "no" than what she ended up saying. She flicked at her lapel as she responded: "Um…yes?"

"That's the spirit!" His enthusiasm manifested in a hot blast of breath that splashed against the windshield. It condensed on the cool glass, which told Judy that Nick had cranked up the air conditioning in the cruiser. Her nervousness had heated her body so thoroughly that she had not felt the frigid air blasting from the vents. What's more, Judy also found it intriguing that Nick was not complaining about the cold either. She wondered what was heating his blood so much that he'd also miss the polar vortex swirling in their cruiser.

Nick was the first to pop open a door; however, before he exited, he let slip a final comment. "Oh, and Hopps, I just want you to know that you do look fetching in that outfit. Time to flaunt it."

And with that, the doors opened and a flurry of chatter poured into the cruiser. Instantly, the noise was deafening. Judy had to squeeze her paws tighter than before to stop them from covering her ears. Yet, the tone wasn't _as_ sour as she would have expected. It was loud but not laced with anger – perhaps an undertone of curiosity was the best way to describe it.

Judy herself was curious about this crowd and how her speech would go. It was a pretty simple stump speech; she had now given it in public a few dozen times. Still, she rattled off the lines in her head while she smiled with her eyes and followed Nick into the venue. After smacking the window of a police cruiser, the crowd had wisely decided to settle down a bit and give Judy some space.

Once she entered the venue, though, she could see why some mammals would be angry. At one time, the foyer must have been gorgeous – Nick had mentioned that this organization used to host a fabulous ball to teach young mammals about proper etiquette. Apparently, Nick's mother had tried to sign up her child but had been informed that the ball was suddenly "filled to capacity" (though a spot magically opened up for the young ram who arrived in line after them). As Judy weaved through a foyer with cracks now running down the drywall and ornate crown molding, she did take a minute to imagine a Nick who was well-versed in _proper_ etiquette.

"C'mon, Carrots, let's move it along." Judy's image vanished pretty quickly. But, in that short time picturing a dapper Nick with a top hat and monocle (she wasn't sure if that was what he meant by proper etiquette), she realized that the Nick herding her through the crowd was the one she very much preferred. And when he grabbed her paw to pull her through an obstinate gaggle of marmots, she couldn't help the small and genuine smile that appeared beneath the big, showy one she wore for the crowd.

They ended up in a large event space devoid of chairs, tables, or any such furniture that would be reasonable to expect at a shindig like this. Instead, it was just a wide open room with torn-up carpeting and lackluster lighting. Judy was guided along the dirty wall toward a wooden stage whose varnish had long since been chipped away. The whole while, Nick was chatting with a harried-looking ferret – the director of this organization, Judy assumed. She couldn't make out much of anything they said, but their discussion seemed rather heated; Nick was gesturing more than usual, and his snout crinkled tightly. He still had her paw, and she felt his own grow much warmer.

She missed that warmth. Since the night at the hotel, Nick had been cooler than ever before. The playful jabs and soft punches they used to exchange had become infrequent. He retained much of his typical snide attitude, but it lacked a certain appealing quality that Judy always liked. This change had worried her to no end; yet, Nick had not seemed to share in her concern. Instead, he just bopped around here and there as if he had dispatched of some great weight, which frustrated her immensely. Judy's fretting now had the bags under her eyes drooping awfully noticeably while Nick's eyes looked as fresh as a kit's would (whenever they weren't buried in his phone's screen).

The ferret deposited them backstage and chatted with Nick, who finally released Judy's paw. Her paw chilled, and she was soon rubbing her paws together as she tried to focus on practicing her speech. She mouthed the words while facing a stage curtain – a curtain that was once pitch black but had aged into a muddled gray that reminded Judy of the color of her father's fur. Judy practiced her pronunciations and exaggerated her gestures; yet, she could not stop her eye from occasionally wandering over to Nick while he was in conversation.

After a few minutes, the ferret left in a huff, and Nick and Judy found themselves completely alone. Beyond the curtain and the stage arose the murmurs of mammals being ushered into the space. From the fast count she took while walking in, the group would fit comfortably within the room; however, she had a hunch that they would huddle close by the stage. Her hunch was confirmed as the murmurs intensified and came closer to where she now stood. And, admittedly, it was scary.

So, she tuned it all out and listened only to the fox standing next to her. "Everything okay, Nick?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, he just had some concerns about the crowd he wanted to voice."

She felt like he should have added more alarm to his voice, as she certainly added some to hers. "Oh! Anything I should worry about?"

He brushed aside her concern. "Nope. Stick to your script, and everything should be fine."

Normally, she would push him, prod him, and poke him until she extracted a real answer from Nicholas. Yet, in this moment, she was simply glad he was there, and she let it drop before taking up another important point. "Good, very good…and who am I talking to out there?"

"And I see you've forgotten their name already, that's fantastic." She nearly slapped him when he gave his expected wink. "The organization is called Mannered Mammals. They're big on speech-making, party-hosting, showing respect for one another. Just don't tell that to the ones banging their paws on our car earlier, I suppose."

Surprisingly, Nick withheld any bitterness – this was the organization that had rejected his mother's bid for her son, after all. Still, Judy sensed a hint of resentment as the fox stared past her and out toward the amassing crowd. Even as her nerves flared and a light blush returned to her chest, she decided to try and help him. "Hmph, _mannered_ , eh?"

That drew a laugh from her partner. He continued eyeing the crowd while she played with her paws. Her nerves had her trembling – not too noticeably, but enough to bother Judy. To calm herself, she stepped back from the impending speech and let her mind wander into fonder memories: she and Mom singing in the kitchen; Dad and Mom finally understanding why their daughter wanted to be a police officer; Nick's fur as she nestled her head around his snout….

And abruptly, her trip into her memories came to an unsatisfying end. At what had to be the most inconvenient time possible, something cloudy that had been troubling her became so clear: she was still not happy with Nick's answer about that night at the hotel. Over time, more doubts had crept in and refused to release their hold on Judy's mind. With everything that had been going on, she had ignored those doubts as they piled up. But now, standing alone with Nick in this once-proud community center, she knew she could no longer leave it alone.

She needed to push him on it, and she needed to do it sooner rather than later. Judy knew the timing wasn't superb (both while backstage and with the campaign in full swing), but she hoped that right now, she could catch the fox in an amenable mood.

"Nick…I wanted to talk about the hotel."

He locked up. It was brief and it passed in a heartbeat, but he locked up. It was obvious that he understood what she meant. When he recovered enough to give an answer, it was a little flat, much like the sound the window had made when Judy tapped on it. "We already did."

"No, I mean…I really want to _talk_ about it."

He tried admirably to hide his tail stiffening. He should have known a police officer would deduce why he was sidling up to the curtain, very nearly wrapping it around himself. His whisper sounded harsh, but it felt gentle. "Does it have to be here? With all of these people around? And now — before you go on stage?"

"No…but soon."

That seemed to calm Nick. The fur on his tail quit bristling, and he leaned in closer to Judy. She could smell his potent fear dissipating, and she could plainly see his wheels turning as he scrabbled together a plan to redress her grievance. "Okay then. How about after our event here, we take the afternoon off? And I mean _really_ walk away from everything for a bit. We can stroll through the park that's right around here and I'll get us some of those gross cricket burgers." He paused as she delivered her usual grimace at the mention of those abhorrent patties. "Then, we can sit down at your place and talk. How does that sound?"

Judy was rather pleased with herself as her trembling subsided. The bit about walking away from everything for an afternoon was a tad unexpected (and, again, sounded eerily similar to Mom's suggestion), and she wasn't entirely sure yet how she would cope with that. But, sharing that segment of time with Nick — and only Nick — was a pretty strong argument in favor of it. She ran her paws down her red shirt and smirked. "I think that'd be good."

"Good? Oh, it'll be a _grand_ time, my dear partner. But now, it's time for you to skedaddle."

Sure enough, the ferret was beckoning Judy to the stage. At some point, he must have introduced her because she walked out to applause. Yet, the applause was softer than she had expected: the group was much bigger than the sound that arose from them.

As she shook the ferret's paw, he pulled her in just a bit so that he could whisper into the ear of hers that was further from the crowd. There was a nervous energy imbued within his words: "Good luck, Candidate Hopps. You'll need it with them."

She immediately buried her look of bewilderment as she took center stage. A smile here and a wave there, and soon she stood at a skinny podium. Oddly, this was the newest item in this building, as far as she could tell. Immaculately polished mahogany shone under the intensely bright Klieg lamps. She stopped herself from squinting, but she could only see the first two or three rows of standing mammals. They all looked…not disinterested, but maybe distant, as if they were not expecting much from their visitor today. If that were the case, then she planned to change their minds.

"Hello, my fellow Zootopians! Thank you for inviting me to Mannered Mammals today to talk to you about the future of our great city."

She paused for some tepid applause (thought it sounded a little warmer than before). The words poured out from somewhere within her; practice was indeed paying off. "Now, here in Zootopia, we have accomplished a lot recently. We've started to come together as a society, as mammals all aspiring toward a brighter future. But, we have a long way to go."

"Yeah, tell that to Mansoa!"

That mammal's voice carried particularly loudly; it had been timed perfectly, too, catching her as she took a dramatic pause. And that voice initiated a chain reaction. In an instant, other voices shouting similar things popped up around the stage:

"Yeah, what about _his_ future?"

"Why do you still have a job?"

"Y'think you can run a city?"

Hecklers were not new to Judy; she had faced several already in the past few weeks (as well as others during the Night Howler case). But, beyond Judy being startled by how early in her speech they had appeared, something about the comments flying from the audience cut deeper than she expected. Coupled with the exhaustion that suddenly and rather inconveniently overtook her on stage, it was truly difficult to hold her composure. "Now, it…it is tough for many mammals today to…."

And the shouts grew louder. She tried her next few lines, but the rows of mammals were already swaying in time with a chant: "Ask-Man-so-a!" Each syllable was an ugly note that swelled as the crowd pushed and brayed. Soon, her microphone was totally overpowered, her pleas for calm blown away by a raucous crowd of rabble-rousers.

She gave it another twenty seconds…a painful, almost unendurable twenty seconds. The lights were bright, and it was hard to see the faces of the mammals shouting at her. She pictured them – or, she tried to, at least. And Judy imagined their snouts wrinkling and their mouths contorting as they screamed. An anger — a confused and powerful anger — gripped each of them and transformed them into something unrecognizable. From her gleaming podium, Judy watched with wide eyes as this transformation took hold of the room.

Somehow, it was far worse than her Night Howler press conference. Her mistake with that speech had originated in her inexperience. Back then, Nick had offered some trite advice: "Answer their questions with your own," which, at the time, seemed wise. She had done so, but she had failed to steer the conversation in the direction she had wanted it to go. Her questions left her open to manipulation, and soon, she was (accidentally) slandering a whole bunch of mammals and nearly tearing apart the city.

She had learned since then. Nick's guidance in the campaign and her own experiences over time had taught her much. So now, she could not make that excuse. All the right pieces were in place, and she must have gotten something wrong. The news coverage may have infected this group; or, perhaps, they were raring to shout her down long before she set foot in the building. When she walked up toward the stage, she thought that she had seen their faces and understood what lay behind them. Maybe she was truly worn out, or maybe she had distracted herself again with thoughts and feelings about the case she couldn't investigate. Regardless, the fact that she had missed this (especially after missing Mr. Mansoa) was devastating. While they shouted out at her, she let a profound sadness infiltrate her spirit. The sadness also exacerbated her tiredness, and her now-languid spirit dragged her off the stage.

Finally, to a great and uproarious cheer, she walked back toward Nick. Already, the lights were dimming, each one winking out and allowing a tide of darkness to encroach further. The stage was cooling, and she began trembling again. The switch from bright lights to darkness was nearly blinding. Without the night vision that Nick so greatly prided himself for having, she let her nose follow his cologne and take her back to him.

She missed the warmth, and maybe here and now he could summon it for her. To his credit, he did make an effort — it wasn't the best effort, but it was the thought that counted. "Yeah, I did not think it would be that bad."

Backstage, the mottled gray curtain absorbed most of whatever light was left. She was actually glad that she couldn't see his eyes; she probably would not have been able to handle it. Really, she couldn't find any words to offer, and so her little sniffle would have to suffice.

Nick must have heard it because he tried to cheer her up again. "So much for Mannered Mammals, right, Hopps?"

He probably should have stopped before that. Judy could still pick out the chatter of the group out there. It was still angry…fearful, terrified of something, perhaps. And that set her blood boiling. Here, under the auspices of an organization dedicated to proper etiquette, an unfounded and muddled fear had been kindled into embers of anger and then stoked irresponsibly until a great conflagration arose. Such a fire could not be controlled or directed. It did not care who it burned, so long as someone was subjected to the righteous flames. Judy's immolation at the paws of these ostensibly acculturated mammals enraged her…and then, as she escaped the fire with several deep burns, it only served to disappoint her.

"Uh, Hopps?"

Her eyes still hadn't adjusted to the darkness, so she listened to the slight warble of concern in his voice. She thought briefly on blaming him, too; yet, his impassioned argument with the ferret made more sense from this new perspective. He had fought for her in the way he said he always would. No, she could not shoulder him with this mess, for it had to be hers to bear.

She sniffed again and picked up the scent of his cologne, mixed with a hint of apprehension and an undertone of musk. The profile told her plenty. From the scents, she gathered that he couldn't get a read on her and how she felt about this situation. She also could tell that he wanted to leave very badly. She agreed.

Like always, Mom had tried to make things better…and she had been right. Judy Hopps needed a break. Nick had been more subtle in his approach, but again, he had echoed Judy's mother (it was getting a little strange, and she could never tell Nick that he had been right, too). She feared lethargy, of getting too lost in her break to function when she returned; yet, the packs of bloodthirsty reporters and the gaggles of rude mammals incapable of independent thought made functioning nearly impossible anyway. And besides, some time away might even allow her weary mind the opportunity to correct its own path.

Out of the noise from the crowd that had started its retreat outside, she picked out the patter of the ferret's feet as he practically sprinted toward the stage. It was too late now, and she really had no interest in anything he would say. She snapped her jacket's lapels into place and picked up her own pace.

Like a detective following a lead, she methodically sniffed her way toward Nick's scent profile. The close she got, the stronger the smells became. Nick was making it easy by not moving, letting his scent pool in one specific spot backstage, and she discovered him in a few shakes of her tail. Judy did not break stride as she took Nick's paw and dragged him toward the venue's rear exit. Behind that door lay a city park that was in great need of the two of them traipsing through its grass. "You know, an afternoon off is the best idea you've had in a while. Let's get started."

* * *

 _And finally, Judy's on her way to a break. I'm sure that's made **Cimar** happy :D. Thanks for reading, and get ready for a really exciting Part III! - Euphonemes_


	16. Chapter 5: Part III

_**A/N:** Alright everyone, here is the (as of today) longest section in "Run"! A lot goes on here, and it might take a little longer to unpack everything once you're done reading. But I sincerely hope you find this chapter refreshing (and a little exciting)._

 _As a New Year's resolution, I'm working to show more gratitude in my daily life. And I'm so lucky to be able to say thank you to all of you who read, fave, follow, review, and share this story! You are why I do this, and I am grateful for your time and your thoughts._

 _A special thank you to the inimitable proofreader **winerp** for going through this beast of a section  twice! An awesome job, as always._

 _And thank you to everyone who has shared thoughts in reviews and PMs, including **Berserker88, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, AngloFalcon, Omnitrix 12, Desespery, HawkTooth,** and **AnAliasButSomeoneTookThatName**. Thank you all for your fantastic feedback!_

 _Finally, in this section, you'll see the end result of the drabble entitled "Nothing That Can't Be Fixed" within the_ _Off the Trail_ _collection. If you haven't had the chance to read it yet, you may want to do so now (you can find it on my profile). As always, it's not necessary to understand the plot, but it does make it a little bit sweeter._

 _Happy reading ~ Euphonemes_

 _ **UPDATE** (1/6/2017) - So, **Lanovran** over at ZootopiaRocks and **Omnitrix 12** both pointed out a little snafu with a particular section (you eagle eyes :D). Omni made a good point about discounts offered by restaurants for police, fire, etc., and that's more of what is happening there. So, really quickly before shuffling off to work, I'm implementing a shower thought here on how to improve that scene. Thanks to you two and all of you readers for helping to shape a stronger story!_

* * *

 _Run_

No matter where in the city she went, the grass in Zootopia would invariably scratch Judy. It was certainly not like the variety that covered the fields in Bunnyburrow like a verdant pillow. Every morning, beads of dew dotting each blade would glint in the rising sun — Judy's favorite part about sunrises. And every evening, the wind would kick up and chase down the setting sun, shuffling the grass in its wake. She could've laid in those fields from sunup to sundown, and she had in fact done so one day after having a particularly nasty spat with Koralee (though Judy probably had deserved worse for calling her sister "Sibling #192" three dozen times).

But in the city, this grass did not feel right, as if it didn't belong near all this concrete and steel. The blades were stubby and blunted, and they jabbed at the nape of her neck as she rested underneath the shade of a tree — one of a grand total of five in this park. It was barely a park, really; that was especially true for someone who grew up with untold acres of land at her disposal.

For Nick, though, it had been a sanctuary. Whenever a young Nick had spent the day being teased, rejected, or outright hated, he would come here and let the park steal an hour or two from him. He didn't even need to do anything, he had said; sleeping here had been a perfectly acceptable way to use his time. It seemed that little had changed since then. Judy wished she could sleep freely like her partner (even outside the park, Nick had a penchant for falling asleep just about anywhere he pleased, though he did an exceptional job at hiding his naps). She shifted to get comfortable, and the grass poked harder.

With a groan, Judy gave up and rose. The problem was that Nick had started off their "afternoon of fun" with a nap. It worked wonders for him (it's likely how he managed to stave off the bags under his eyes), but Judy was still far too anxious from this morning's events to drift off like Nick had done. They had come straight here after the community center, which was now several hours behind them. She still wore her blue jacket and red shirt that "popped," and as she toyed with her jacket's cuff, all she could see and hear was the crowd cheering her off the stage.

What stood out most clearly were the twenty seconds she had been left speechless. From her podium, she could only watch as those civilized and reasonable mammals descended into a savagery that would give Night Howler poisoning a run for its money. Their animosity – their anger – had been so shocking to her. For those twenty seconds, Judy Hopps questioned just about everything she knew about her city and its citizens…and she questioned her own purpose for standing on that stage.

Even Nick making fun of the Mannered Mammals all the way to the park hadn't helped abate the confusion and tension fighting in her stomach. This fight had raged on as he nestled into the cool spot in the grass to "rest his eyes," and she had been left to fend for herself. Needless to say, it hadn't gone well.

With a loud yawn, Nick roused from his slumber and immediately started talking. "Ah, so I see Operation Take a Nap has been aborted. Too bad, Carrots…it's an important mission to carry out."

She agreed, but she was stuck between the exhaustion that leached all energy from her muscles and the marathon her mind was running with an enviable spryness. Judy played with her paws while staring up at a blue sky. "...Nick, I—"

And suddenly, emerald eyes filled her view. Nick could move so quietly when he wanted to, even if his chatter usually gave him away. But this time, he had sneaked up behind her, and his eyes moved in the jittery way they did when he had something crucial to say and could no longer keep it bottled up. "Nuh-uh. I told you, Carrots, we're taking a break. No campaign, no case, _nothing_ this afternoon. You were very eager to do so earlier, so _please_ don't let your enthusiasm elude you now."

Occasionally, Nick could lend some sound advice. It didn't happen too often (or so Judy believed), which made it special whenever he had something intelligent to offer. She decided to listen to him and, with tremendous effort, halted her mind's running and started to let the worry drain away. In its place, a bubbly eagerness, comparable to her experience with the carrot purée (though she felt more in control this time around), tenuously entered. Her cheeks lifted naturally to create a pleasant smile that better masked the worry that simmered (albeit more calmly) in her stomach, and she even managed a laugh when Nick wiggled his eyebrows while awaiting her response.

"Okay, Mr. Wilde. I'll try. So, what shall we do this afternoon?"

"I thought you'd never ask." The cheeky smirk that emerged was the one that appeared when a crazy scheme of his came to mind. "Well, I _did_ promise you cricket burgers."

"Blech!" Her automatic response triggered a guffaw from Nick. A small part of her was worried that she would wound Nick if she rejected his offer; however, the mere thought of those smashed and blackened patties and the sickening crunch they made when she bit into them set her stomach further on edge. She chanced to offend him. "Can we do, like, _anything_ else?"

It was clear from his smooth reaction that he had expected this answer. In fact, she wondered if he had counted on it. "I suppose so. Though, we're gonna get hungry terribly fast without a snack."

She was quiet as she thought. She had studied the map of this area on her phone as they had walked to the park (Nick's eyes had been lost in his phone, too, so she felt fine to dally on her own device). It took a tad more concentration than usual, but Judy visualized the map and the twenty-ish shops nearby. Her process of elimination proceeded quickly, and she had a location and a route plotted before Nick could slip in another quip. Something about this fresh air agreed handsomely with Judy. "Hmm…how about blueberry ice cream? There's a new place that opened up a few blocks away."

She moved to take the lead, but Nick had already taken five steps in the right direction. She could tell he was already salivating at the prospect, and then she understood that he had planned to go to this park specifically to increase his chances of nabbing a frozen blueberry delicacy. His forethought impressed Judy, even if she felt he had just pulled a small hustle at her expense. "What a fine idea, Carrots. I'll lead the way."

The grass felt a little softer underfoot as they walked to the entrance of the park. Even by city standards, the space was pretty small; yet, eager patrons were very nearly spilling over the brick retaining walls that enclosed the park. All around her were parents playing with kids, high schoolers gossiping in tight circles, and spontaneous games of tag and hide-and-seek. The fair weather had brought out a fascinating collection of city mammals, and Judy exulted in it. Four of the five trees had bloomed and were releasing sweet scents of nectar into the air, which intermingled with the industrial odor of scent blockers and the complex smells of natural musk. The soft wind gathered them all together and sent them streaming past Judy's nose; she could not resist a few deep breaths.

Most of all, she enjoyed the scent of Nick while he walked nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with her. He had a spotty record with using the appropriate amount of scent blocker, and today was an off day for him. She wondered if Nick had experienced the same troubles as she had this morning. Her routine had been practically torn to shreds with the unexpected time off, and Nick had been on the force long enough to develop his own prescribed set of steps. Perhaps the blocker had remained in its spot (probably behind his bathroom mirror) as he prepared himself to pick up his partner.

His beautifully complicated scent continually teased her as they left the park and walked the few blocks to the ice cream parlor. It would actually be the first Zootopia-based parlor she had visited besides Jumbeaux's since she had arrived in the city. Ever since her first time there (and, coincidentally, her first time meeting Nick), Jumbeaux had always welcomed her with open arms…or perhaps _welcomed_ wasn't the right word. _Tolerated_ would be more accurate. But, it seemed that Jumbeaux had a soft spot for the police — Judy was sure there was some story involved there, but she had never gathered the nerve to ask — and gave her and her partner a steep discount on anything she wanted (along with an invitation to bring more of ZPD's finest over for some ice-cold treats). A bit of her felt bad about going somewhere new…until she smelled the fresh blueberries being mulled for the ice cream.

The shop was little and quaint, and they must have arrived at the right time, before the rush of parents who wanted to infuse their children with a solid sugar rush before dinnertime. In no time, they had selected a pair of blueberry ice cream cones (Nick's fervent affinity for the fruit had easily rubbed off on Judy, a milder fan). She went to pay when she found the police discount placard situated next to the bandicoot running the register (big hearts for the ZPD were everywhere these days, it seemed). So, she reached for her badge in her pocket...and had a small panic attack when she couldn't find it.

Nick had already stepped forward and covered the bill; he must have known what was surging through Judy's mind. His paw landed squarely on the small of her back, and he pushed her toward a set of white metal patio chairs. "No discounts today, Carrots. Our badges are hanging out with Bogo now, remember?"

Remember...how could she forget? Relinquishing that badge the first time during the Night Howler Incident had been agonizing enough; doing it again felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest. Bogo didn't even let them go back to the precinct to handle the ugly business. After wrapping up her statement and having Nick cover her from the throng of cameras, they had been forced to make do in the alley, barely hiding from the lenses while a tearful Judy plunked the chunk of metal that represented her life's work into Bogo's waiting hoof. He had not been joyful while doing it — no one in that alley had been joyful — but a little smile had cracked through his tough veneer. If Judy had to guess, it had been one born of optimism, a belief that Judy would see that badge again soon.

"Hey, Carrots, come back to me and lick your cone." She shook her head, and the chair she sat in squeaked in response. Nick's paw was guiding her eyes to the ice cream cone, whose swirled blue contents were now leaking down the side of a brown waffle cone. She probably looked insane as she manically licked the sides to stave off a sticky avalanche. As per usual, Nick laughed the whole time.

"What're you laughing at, Nick? Your cone is no better than mine." And that was the truth: his was already leaving splotches on the fur of his paw. With the seriousness that came with a bona fide blueberry addict, he sucked on his paw and gathered every last drop of the ice cream. Judy made a face, which only encouraged Nick to emit more noise as he savored his treat.

"Mmm, iz-dee-li-shuz," he tried to say through his paw. That almost sent blueberry ice cream shooting from Judy's nose. It had to look ridiculous, these two upstanding officers and political mavericks laughing at their inability to properly eat ice cream. But that did not matter. From the corner of her eye, Judy caught the bandicoot doing his best to avoid looking in their general direction. He undoubtedly recognized them, but he was not interested in talking with them. Strangely, while she sat in her metal chair laughing at Nick sucking on his paw, Judy preferred it that way.

While the cones weren't particularly gigantic, Nick and Judy talked so much that it took over an hour for them to finish. By then, the ice cream had melted into soup in the bottoms of their cones, which they had slurped out with great gusto. This eventually drew a smirk from the bandicoot, which left Judy satisfied as she and Nick went on their way.

"Okay," Judy spat out somewhat speedily while her paw jittered from the sugar, "where are we going next?"

"Eager, are we?" Amazingly, Nick did not appear to have been affected by the ice cream in the slightest. Sure, he wore a dazzling smile, but that was nothing new. He retained his coolness as his snout crinkled in thought. "Hmm, well, how about we stop at somewhere relaxing? Like, I dunno, Mystic Springs?"

Her jitters intensified, and this time, it was not because of the sugar. She had attempted to be more open-minded about places like Mystic Springs. And she had not gotten there yet. She tugged on her jacket's cuff and realized very much that she wanted to keep that jacket on at the moment. "Um…."

Again, Nick had obviously prepared for her response. "I'm just messing with you, Carrots. I didn't think you'd be ready just yet. You're a cop who's now running for mayor, so I guess we'll broaden one horizon at a time."

That was actually funny, and Judy laughed along with Nick. A few passersby turned their heads — perhaps they recognized the two of them, or maybe the laughter had been an unexpected surprise. Judy didn't much care either way; she was happy (and it was surprisingly calming for her stomach) to be walking alongside Nick and not having to be lost in deep discussions on election or police matters. Just like before all of the cameras and campaigning, Judy could simply talk to Nick.

And she was going to take advantage of that for as long as she could manage. "Let's just walk for a bit. I like seeing the buildings and mammals…and moving around. Is that okay?"

She was confident that it wouldn't bother Nick. And, even if it did, he was unlikely to complain. Though the sun shone brightly and glinted off the silvery skins of the skyscrapers, Nick refrained from putting on his huge shades. His unsheathed emerald eyes focused right on Judy, and the tiniest of shivers zipped down her spine as he answered. "It's your day, Hopps. Lead the way."

She could not contain her giddiness and had to hold herself back from leaping too far ahead of her ambling partner. The sugar would leave her very soon; as she had informed Nick once, bunnies can burn through a lot of energy in a short amount of time. A crash was imminent, but before she would be reduced to dragging her paws along the ground at the nadir of her rush, she would enjoy every exciting moment of her buzz.

Even when exercising personal restraint, she put nearly half a city block between her and Nick. "C'mon Nick! At least _try_ to keep up!" She doubted her taunting ability, as Nick could be more stubborn than a plow digging up dirt in the dead of winter. But, much to Judy's surprise, he put a little more pep in his step (it helped that Judy also forced herself to slow down tremendously — this was her time to talk with Nick, not with the mammals milling around at the bus stop she was passing).

By now, Nick had deduced the source of Judy's excitement, and she wondered if he felt a little hurt that it wasn't just him that was getting Judy so energized. Of course, he didn't show any obvious pain as he shouted at Judy while catching up. "So I don't think I'm going to take you for ice cream ever again."

The ice cream had been scrumptious and had brought a cheer to Judy that had been missing all day. And she planned to cling tightly to that cheer. Judy empathized with Nick – she had her moments of precociousness, certainly – but she took no pity. "Aww, poor Nick, gotta deal with a happy bunny. How unfortunate for you."

Her giggle carried shockingly well in the busy air, beating out the car horns, the screeching brakes of the buses, and the chatter of countless mammals talking into their phones. That seemed to spur Nick on more than anything, as he was not one to miss a good chance to laugh.

"Very good, Mr. Wilde. Glad you could _finally_ join me."

He said nothing as he reached his partner, but Judy could sense he was withholding some incredibly snarky comment for later. She would be prepared – he had given her ample opportunities to practice deflecting his snark during their time together – and she might even have a little fun with it. For now, though, she settled into a similar pace with Nick, and they walked down a few blocks bustling with city life.

Over all the noise, Nick reminisced. "Y'know, I used to walk down this street all the time when I was a kit."

They were skirting the edge of one of Zootopia's financial districts. A lot of mammals wore a lot of bespoke suits and looked remarkably concerned about things on their phones. What Judy did not see was a lot of children. "Really?"

He nodded while side-stepping one rude muskrat who was determined to walk through Nick and Judy's discussion. "I liked to imagine myself looking out the window of one of these buildings or running down this sidewalk, late for an important meeting. Goofy, I know…."

Nick did not wear bashfulness as Judy would have expected. He probably lacked practice, since it was not an emotion that he would want to show during one of his many _creative_ money making exploits (which Judy realized would seem like clever ways for a fox kit to reach that shiny corner office). But, really, he had no reason to be bashful, as his childhood wish was actually pretty adorable — though she couldn't say that outright to her partner. "No, it's…it's nice."

"Heh, sure. But when I did that, when I stared up at these windows, the people on the street would give me some…eh, _weird_ looks. I mean, they _still_ look at me funny, but it's for a different reason now, I'd imagine."

 _That's true_ , Judy nearly said aloud, though something stopped her at the last second. She wouldn't withhold the truth, not from Nick; yet, she liked seeing him lost in that lovely memory, and she did not want to spoil it for him. She changed course. "Yeah, our streets weren't quite as busy."

Nick, however, was apparently not bound by the same scruples, something that did not come as a surprise to Judy. "You have _streets_ in Bunnyburrow? Impressive."

"Shut up!" She couldn't help her laugh even as she cuffed him on the shoulder, which, if she didn't know any better, he seemed to almost enjoy. "Most days, they were quiet. But during the Fair, you couldn't walk ten feet down them, what with all the cars and tractors. Some of my siblings and I would skip through some of the carrot and turnip fields. They made for good shortcuts. We weren't supposed to, but…."

"Oh, so you've always been a rebel, eh, Carrots?"

Normally, she'd note the evident sarcasm, but now, she just felt like playing along (though it was getting a little tough to focus with all the sugar flowing through her). "Yep, I guess so."

"Well, some of us had to stick to alleyways. They make for easy exits from…uncomfortable situations."

"I'll bet you found a lot of those situations."

Oddly, his eyes seemed to peel back from Judy, like they were getting lost while looking into Nick's past. "Heh. Sometimes, yeah. But more often than not, they found me. Especially when I was little – I knew every potential getaway for twenty blocks around my house. The other kids were tenacious when it came to muzzling me."

Judy did not mean to wander into that part of Nick's past. And honestly, she wasn't sure how to proceed. She let her eyes fall to the sidewalk and watch the cracks in the concrete pass by as they walked. "…oh, right."

"It's alright. It was a long time ago. Things are…different now."

"Better?" she asked with a hint of optimism that directed her gaze back to Nick.

"…different."

She let the sounds of the city fill in the gaps while she ruminated. He had informed her about the muzzling episode, but she wondered how much more of Nick's past she really knew…and questioned how much further she should dig. That little scar on his snout danced while he sniffed at something. And as they turned the corner onto another busy street, she decided to let it dance unimpeded…for now.

"So, how fast can you run?"

He scoffed, likely to hide the tiny sigh of relief that Judy had altered her line of questioning. "Are you challenging me to a race?

"Nick, there is _no way_ you can outrun a rabbit."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I've have you know that in fifth grade, there was a rabbit in my class named Thom. He fancied himself a runner like you, but yours truly had to put him to the test. So, one gloriously foggy morning, he and I lined up for the race of our lives…."

And after that story ended with typical Nicholas Wilde hyperbole, another emerged. Judy and Nick exchanged tales back and forth, laughing and giggling and scoffing in disbelief for hours. They talked so much that Judy didn't notice the sun traversing the sky and setting, leaving behind a city aglow in the lights of the night. Nick, however, clearly had been paying attention: they had stopped to grab takeout for dinner (Nick again tried for cricket burgers, and Judy walked him back to a rather lush salad) and had ended up on the street to her apartment complex. He had done it so smoothly, and it impressed Judy.

The sugar from their lunchtime dessert had finally worn off, but Judy hadn't crashed. In fact, she felt electric as she bounded up her building's steps two at a time and bounced at the top of the stairs, waiting for a puffing and panting Nick. "We need to get you to the gym more often, Mr. Wilde!"

He finally rose over the last step and nearly went on all-fours. Judy didn't think she lived that high up, but perhaps Nick didn't need to climb as many at his place (Judy had yet to visit but had been assured it would put her little slice of Zootopia to shame, a claim she wholeheartedly doubted).

"Yeah…the…gym…sounds…like _fun_."

She twirled just to rub in her fitness a bit more. Catching Nick off-balance like this was enjoyable, she had to admit. She didn't abuse it or anything, but there was an indescribable sweetness to outperforming her partner at something.

Yet, to her great surprise, he recovered exceptionally quickly. In no time, he was walking Judy to her door. And as they walked, Judy spied a pink box wrapped with twine whose ends came together in a neat and tidy bow. From fifteen steps away, a familiar scent tickled her nose.

"Looks like you got a package, my dear partner."

She was eight steps from her door when she definitively placed the scent. "Oh, that's a pie! One of Gideon's, I'd recognize that anywhere." She covered the remaining distance in a heartbeat and flipped open the lid to inhale pure bliss. "Apple-blueberry, oh, that's _wonderful_."

Gideon Grey could be full of surprises. Even today, she still clearly remembered when he had sliced into her cheek and put her in the dirt. Yet, when she had spent time in Bunnyburrow in the interim between her stints on the force, Judy and Gideon had reconnected. He had been instrumental in solving her first big case (and, in all fairness, she had tried to call him and tell him so, but she always seemed to miss him), but beyond that, they had corrected the mistakes of the past. Gideon was now a solid business partner with Mom and Dad, and he seemed genuinely happy about where he was now. It was a little enviable if Judy were being honest with herself.

No matter what, this gesture was much appreciated and definitely warranted a thank-you call. _Later_ , Judy told herself as her paw caressed the lip of the baking tin. The edges of the crust flaked off and left golden crumbs in her paw's gray fur. She sucked on her paw to nab each delicious morsel.

Nick was snickering, but she did not care. As she finished cleaning her paw, he let loose a thought: "You sure you can handle more blueberries today, Carrots?"

Judy knew that to be an absolutely silly question. "Hush, Nick. You of _all_ mammals should know there's always room for more blueberries." While he laughed, she pulled out a handwritten note that was stuck in the corner of the box.

 _Judy,_

 _I saw on the news that you were having a rough time recently. So, I wanted to send you a little something to pick you up and remind you of everyone back home. Even though you've left this tiny town behind, I know you haven't forgotten us, and we haven't forgotten you. Enjoy a slice of home, and best of luck on your campaign!_

 _Gideon_

From the puffs of breath batting against her ear, she could tell Nick was reading over her shoulder. And she could very nearly hear him crack his smile. "You have an admirer, Hopps."

The letter immediately went into the inner pocket of her jacket (which was such a handy feature). She tried putting on her own smile, but it felt awkward. She hid it behind the pie box as she unlocked her apartment door. "He's just being _nice_!"

"Mhm, yep."

"Well, whatever, Nick. We have dessert, and if you don't want any…."

He loved apple-blueberry. Behind his cool exterior, Judy could see the hunger yearning to escape. A little bit of it did, and he practically glued his nose to the box when he followed Judy in. "Now when did I say that? It _is_ a nice gesture, and I'm happy to help you enjoy it to its fullest."

"Mhm, yep." That sent the tiniest of twitches racing along Nick's snout. The thought of having to watch Judy eat this delicious pie without him must have been torture for the blueberry addict. Judy had meant it playfully and would certainly share the pie (it was too much for her anyway), but a part of her wanted to prolong Nick's wait, to leave him salivating a while longer.

So, she decided that dinner would follow its proper course. While Judy set the pie by the door and hung up her dark blue jacket, Nick dutifully set up the fold-up card table and lawn chairs Judy used when she entertained guests. In between campaign stops, she had relaxed a smidge by decorating her apartment more cozily, taking a few tips and tricks from Mom to bring a little bit of the curves and patterns of Bunnyburrow to the drab and rigidly angular walls.

Nick had yet to see it in this newly remodeled state, and he was quick with a compliment; Judy could tell he really wanted that pie. "Not bad, Carrots. Gingham curtains are a nice touch."

Those had been a special order from a shop in "downtown" Bunnyburrow. The owners lived three farms west of the Hopps estate, and they grew some of the biggest rutabagas imaginable. But their crops were really side-projects to a highly successful crafts store where they earned the money for the shiniest and newest tractors they bought every harvest season.

Judy thought that the robin egg blue perfectly complemented both the golden light of the sunrise and the azure glow of the neon signs at night, each of which had a nasty habit of waking her up at inappropriate times. With the curtains installed, she could almost say she had never slept better…if her mind hadn't always been racing with thoughts of an election or a case.

For now, though, she was content to focus on getting out a few plastic plates and dishing out the salad in heaping portions. In between chopped lettuce, slices of beets, and shredded carrots, Judy spied a couple pieces of rutabaga. She made a note to swing by that crafts shop the next time she got to Bunnyburrow and ask the owners if they distributed their vegetables to this corner of Zootopia.

While she thought, Nick ate. Judy had munched on a quarter of her plate by the time Nick went back for seconds. He was totally silent as he devoured his meal, and the quiet was simply shocking. Judy considered flipping on the radio for some music or news to fill the void, but she was genuinely tired of hearing about herself over the airwaves. And, the longer she let the silence linger, the more she came to enjoy it.

She wondered if Bucky and Pronk would soon appear to ruin the silence. As she ate, she kept one ear trained on the wall they shared. It had been argument-free when she and Nick first arrived, and the lack of noise was continuing through dinner. It filled her with glee to know that she and Nick might actually have this section of the floor to themselves tonight.

It took her ten minutes longer to finish than Nick required. But, rather than huff indignantly, tap his foot, or fidget, he sat still and observed Judy. At first, while crunching through a stubborn water chestnut, she believed that he was behaving so that he could earn his apple-blueberry reward. The longer he sat, though, the more Judy wondered about what was going on behind his emerald eyes. He wasn't giving her a wide-eyed stare; it was softer, half-lidded like he was savoring the time with his dinner companion. Of course, that could have been Judy shading the truth, as she was very much doing that with Nick.

Judy would find out soon enough as she cleaned her plate. Shreds of lettuce were strewn about the card table; the two of them had been more ravenous than they had thought. She joyfully let the quiet persist for a minute or two before giving Nick the all-clear. "Alright, Nick, let's have that—"

For a fox who had trouble climbing stairs, he could sure move fast when pie was on the line. He bounced like he had springs on his feet when he leaped from the chair, swiped the box from where Judy had placed it by the door, and returned with the prize. He looked unperturbed as he then sat back in his chair, his paws clasped in the kind of restraint that Nick could never wait to break.

When Judy took a knife to the pie and sliced through fresh blueberries, it released an unbelievably intoxicating aroma into the cramped air of her apartment. Like the nectar of the blossoming trees in the park, it mingled with what was already there: the stuffy humidity of a slow-moving air conditioner, the clean linen of the bedding that she had washed the other day, and Nick's unmasked musk. Maybe it was the closer quarters in here than in the park, but his scent was more potent now — not overbearing or pungent, but powerful and sweet. It seemed like a nearly perfect match for the blueberries hanging heavy in the air, and with all of these smells flowing around Judy, it was hard to concentrate on slicing the pie.

In short order, she had six completely uneven slices. Nick actually laughed at it, but Judy didn't have much to say in reply. The scents in the room had whetted her appetite, and she extracted the biggest slice of pie and dug right into it. Nick's gasp at getting left behind was soon replaced by his chewing. It was like clockwork: when one of them removed a slice, so did the other. Minutes later, only the empty tin remained.

Delicious was not sufficient to describe this pie. In fact, Judy could not come up with any combination of words for the ineffable dessert. Anything she could say could not do it justice, so instead, she leaned back and paid homage to Gideon's gift by staring at her apartment's ceiling. She had ordered from the crafts shop a set of nylon stickers of popular Bunnyburrow images: barns, fields, carrots, and the like. Every single sticker had found a spot on her ceiling, and now, she gazed up at a tree, familiar in some way that she could not place. While she stared, she felt the wind blow through its branches and across her cheeks, and she let the dappled sunlight brighten her lavender eyes. For a brief moment, the angular walls fell away, and she looked out over the undulations of tilled earth and swaying stalks of wild grass.

She didn't want to leave — why would she? Everything was warm and comforting here in this memory of hers. But, as she watched the sun burn its way through the blazing blue sky, she heard his voice carry on the wind, a sound she could not ignore. It took him a few tries, but he eventually brought her back to her little slice of Zootopia.

"Hey, Carrots. So, you, uh, wanted to talk?"

Her eyes needed a few moments to readjust from the bright Bunnyburrow day. In place of the tree and the sun, she found Nick, who wore an expression of concern crossed with curiosity. And, though he didn't show it, his scent profile had changed a bit to reflect nervousness. Judy smirked as she rose from her chair and hopped onto her bed. Nestled on top of her soft linens, she braced her back against the wall and patted her paw on the spot next to her.

Nick understood the invitation and, with the tiniest hint of trepidation, shuffled out of his seat and onto the bed. He held his paws in front of him awkwardly and stiffly, as if unsure of where they should go. He wasn't the only one unsure, either: after their last time together like this, Judy had planned to exert more control, to focus on saying what she needed to say and getting answers from her partner. They handled themselves professionally (enough) on the force; there was no reason the same could not be done here.

Yet, as they sat and Judy tried to collect her nerves, she felt control slipping away again. The initial ecstasy of the blueberry pie was finally cooling, but it stole away a lot of Judy's concentration; she soon had trouble constructing complex thoughts. And this was not helped by the nearness of Nick and his scent. His body heat splashed against her forelimb, and she began to turn the same shade of red as her shirt. She had missed his warmth, and now that it was right next to her, her focus was evaporating in the heat.

"Nick, I know you've been really wrapped up in the campaign…well, we _both_ have. And after Mansoa, it's been…." To her surprise, she required a moment to compose herself. A lot of emotions were battling for attention, and she had to be selective. "I just want to thank you. You've been there for me. Always. And that…means a lot to me."

"My pleasure…Judy."

Her paw was trembling. This time, it wasn't nerves; she so enjoyed when Nick said her name, especially when it wasn't shouted at her or slipped into something snarky. Maybe it was _his_ nervousness, but he had softened his voice to dulcet tones. She needed a few deep breaths before moving on. "But since that night in the hotel, you've been…acting strangely. When we're on the campaign trail, you're very professional, and I respect that. But beyond that, I feel like you're keeping me out…like you're not even there."

His forelimbs relaxed and fell to the bed with a mild thud. He was staring at one thread that jutted out from her comforter, and, at that exact moment, Judy wanted to grab his head and bring his eyes to hers. She resisted, but her paw's trembling had intensified, and the blushing around her neck was reddening, when Nick spoke. "…I don't mean to. Guess I've just been wondering."

"About what?"

"Whether I should have left that room or not."

She had to take his paw before she realized he was trembling, too. He must have noticed, and he shifted around until his eyes met hers. In them, Judy watched a thousand thoughts clash and explode, shattering into glimmers as the two of them sat silently on Judy's bed. His musk had strengthened, shedding the tangy odor of nervousness for something earthier and more primal.

Judy tried to hold back, but already, she could feel herself leaning closer, the gap between them disappearing while she questioned him. "And what do you think now, Nick?"

He didn't answer, and she didn't need him to. While Judy gripped one of his paws, his other one caressed her cheek. She tilted her head into it, almost purring as Nick shared his warmth. In that moment, she wished she had forgotten her scent blocker that morning; she wanted Nick to enjoy this with the same senses that were singing to her. Instead, she moved closer, hoping she could overcome her blocker with her closeness and her warmth. The bed creaking with her movements was the only sound in the room.

His eyes gazed into hers, beyond hers. His were half-lidded, the same as they had been when he watched her earlier. Hers did the same as she guided her free paw to the nape of his neck. She tugged gently on the rising strands of fur, which made Nick smirk in delight. And his smirk disappeared as she connected.

She had really missed his warmth. It now came in waves as Nick wrapped his paw around the small of her back, drawing her nearer. She had imagined this moment for some time, picturing how their lips would touch with a soft and curious playfulness, how her paw would dance along the ridge of his snout, how they would intertwine with each other. Her imagination, however, could not compete with reality.

Everything — campaigns and cases, worries and fears — fell away. All she saw, all she smelled, all she felt, it was all Nick. It was joy, pure and beautiful. Wave after wave passed over her until one of her closed eyes cracked open just a hair and wandered over to the clock on the bedside. Two minutes had elapsed. Or was it an eternity? It was hard to tell, and Judy didn't much care.

But, like all good things, it needed to end, as the necessity of air called to her. She breathed through pleased gasps, her heart racing and her mind not allowing her to talk. Her paw spoke for her as she lifted up Nick's snout so she could look at him again.

Words arrived faster for Nick. "So this is talking, eh, Carrots?"

When she could think of what to say, she tried to sound cross, but it only came out like a breathy laugh. "You _really_ know how to ruin a moment, don't'cha?"

"A specialty of mine, partner."

Enough time had passed for Judy to catch her breath, which was important, even if she planned on losing it again. She found him once more, and after they joined, her paw swiveled onto his back, digging into the fabric of his shirt. It lacked the flowers of the tacky Aloha ones he used to wear, but it felt so similar. And it kept her from his fur underneath. She couldn't wait to get rid of it.

Her other paw had been stroking his cheek, but she let it fall gently toward the buttons on his shirt. Two were already undone as per usual. With smooth motions, she began to tease the third button apart, all the while leaning into Nick and letting her passion take hold. The button had halfway escaped through its hole when she felt the pressure of Nick's paw on hers.

Suddenly, everything became much more mechanical. The first time, Nick had matched her motions and the curves of her lips and tongue. Now, his movements were rigid and angular. She could tell something wasn't right.

With indescribable reluctance, she broke away. Nick's eyes flashed confusion for a moment, but they settled quickly. Judy figured that Nick knew something was off and was preparing for her inevitable questions.

She recovered more quickly this time, and while leaving one paw draped across his back, she launched her interrogation. "Nick, what is it?"

She could feel him attempting to shuffle away from her question, but Judy held firm. Nick sighed. "Nothing…it's just…."

He seemed to hit a wall. The bashfulness appeared once more, and it still did not look normal on him. She tried waiting for Nick to start again, but when he averted his stare and went searching for the thread on her bed, she ventured a painful guess. It was a reality she had planned for but hoped would not come to fruition (as selfish as that hope may have been). "Is…is there someone else?"

He shuddered, and his eyes snapped right back. " _What_?"

She put on a brave face, though her small smile could have used some work. "It's okay, you don't have to hide that. I'm sure there are lots of lovely lady foxes out there, and you wouldn't have trouble making something happen."

If Nick was pretending to be shocked, then Judy thought he should consider auditioning for a movie. He paused, and Judy listened to his deep exhalations and let his warm breath roll down her chest. "They like to be called _vixens_ , as I've discovered, and no, there's not one. When would I have had time to sneak off with someone else? I'm always around you."

Relief flooded through her, as the worst-case scenario proved fruitless. Still, some annoyance was creeping in as Nick continued to avoid an actual answer. "Okay, fine. Then what's going on?"

He sounded frustrated, too. "It's just…." His muscles tightened. Judy could tell she was hitting on something big, so she dug her paw into his back and massaged the beginnings of a serious knot. His ears twitched, and she felt his whole body soften. "…different. That's it."

She kept massaging, and her other paw pressed more firmly on his cheek. "How so?"

Nick blinked rapidly and sighed contentedly as Judy's paw released the nascent knot of tension in his back. This brought back his smirk, though it was still subdued as he spoke. "A fox and a…a bunny. That doesn't strike you as…."

"Different?"

He nodded.

Before she asked more of the questions fluttering around in her now-focused detective mind, she rose onto her haunches and poured herself onto Nick. It felt natural as she slid across the fabric of his shirt and laid across his back, her paws dangling in front of him. He took them and held them close to his chest while she whispered into his twitching ear. "Why should it? Are you worried about what everyone out there will think? Or how it will affect our campaign?"

She nuzzled her nose into the nape of his neck, and it took Nick a few tries to start his reply. "N…n-no. Never have cared for their thoughts, I'm pretty sure that's obvious. I mean...the campaign, a little bit."

The campaign excuse had been a little pathetic before. Sure, the fate of the campaign was important to keep in mind, but after their exchange at the desk, it had become plain to Judy that more was going on in the head of Nicholas Wilde. And she intended to pry that open. "But..."

"...I guess I…I don't mean 'different' in that way. What I mean is that this is…mmm, this is different for _me_. This…I don't know, this closeness between us."

Judy let him spin around. His emerald eyes were so close to her lavender ones. In his, she saw flashes of a lifetime of swindling and scheming. He had been buried in lies and deceit for years, long before Judy had arrived. No doubt that had affected every connection, every relationship he had ever experienced. Even after time had altered him, it had to be difficult to connect with another fox, let alone another mammal like a rabbit. So many nuanced differences competed for his attention and laid a minefield for him to make a mistake. And like that, Judy finally understood. "You're worried you're going to get it wrong."

"I…." A truly speechless Nicholas Wilde was a sight to behold. He simply sat motionlessly, and Judy shivered as his paws chilled. She puzzled it out pretty quickly: After countless tries, she had broken through the wall he had painstakingly constructed from years of feigned apathy and a perpetually broken and confused heart, and he simply didn't know how to respond. She had missed his warmth, but Nick hadn't known what to do with hers.

So, she smiled. She smiled softly and let herself slide off of her partner. "Nick, ever since I met you, I've watched you change. You have become someone better, and I _know_ you know that. And no matter what you might think of yourself or how many things you think you'll get wrong, I will still be here. I want you to know that." He started to say something, but her paw blocked his words. "But, I understand, you need time. Now, I'll be honest and say that bunnies aren't known for their patience…but I _think_ I can make an exception for you."

And she gave him a small peck on the little scar that ran along his snout. She eased back into her spot on the bed and let Nick have a little space for contemplation. And contemplate he did; even after she had taken her paw away from his mouth, the words still wouldn't come out. He stared at the thread on the comforter, then at Judy, and then at the walls, the ceiling, and the gingham curtains that swayed slowly in the light and humid breeze of the air conditioner. Judy simply watched with interest and wondered what was churning behind his dazzling emerald eyes.

Nick recovered his voice; but, when he said what he said, a bit of Judy wished that it had stayed lost a while longer. "Is that the kind of peck on the snout you plan to give Gideon?"

Though Gideon hadn't really been on her mind, it was a little comforting to hear Nick's usual attitude returning. She was happy to play along. "Aw, does that bother you? How adorable."

The dramatist in Nick took hold, and he scoffed brusquely while barely hiding his cheesy smirk. "You're picturing him right now, aren't you? Well, he'd be easier to take home to Stu and Bonnie, I must admit."

Judy tried to look pensive by tapping her chin with her paw, though by the way Nick raised his eyebrow, she wasn't sure if she was succeeding. "Yeah, he probably would be…not as much fun, though. Besides, Mom and Dad like you, Nick."

"Sure, I suppose. Guess it's just a little surprising, your dad getting along so well with him."

Judy was channeling the drama now, and she dismissed him with an extravagant flourish of her paw. "Oh, it's just business, Nick. Anything more personal, though, I'm not so sure."

"Well, I'm sure Gideon would win them over with those pies of his."

Judy hopped back up on her haunches, which made it much easier to put her paws on her hips. "Nicholas Wilde, are you _jealous_?"

He snorted and, in an overly elaborate move, rolled off of the bed, which protested with a loud squeak. At that very moment, Judy was overjoyed that Bucky and Pronk were not home to hear that and speculate on the sound's source. "Yeah. I wish I could bake a pie like him."

She followed him off the bed and stood tall. A forelimb was all the distance between them. It was the perfect distance for her to study Nick. He stood with his trademark slouch, but everything else about him was alert. His ears were perked up, and it was obvious how hard he was working to keep his tail in check. His shirt still had two buttons undone and a third one halfway out. And as she stood in the center of her slice of Zootopia with her partner, her paw wouldn't stop twitching, still eager to rid itself of the distance between them and get at his fur underneath that shirt.

But, with great determination, she stayed put. "Well...even though you can't bake a pie, you don't need to worry about him."

That made him laugh, and it was the type of full-bellied laugh that drove Judy wild. It reverberated around the angular walls of her apartment; she could feel it curving and undulating through the air. And it was filled with the warmth that she had been missing.

It almost moved her from her spot, almost had her leaping into his forelimbs and letting passion run as wild as it could. But, she knew Nick needed time. Progress had been made this evening, but he had more steps on that path. She had given him a promise, and she intended to honor that promise, as difficult as it might be.

"That's good to know, Judy." Nick cleared his throat and stepped backward on his way to the exit. "So, if you've haven't had too much sugar, might be a good idea to get some sleep. We'll have to start early tomorrow — we've got some catch-up to do thanks to our break today."

Judy grinned…and stayed planted in her spot. "Totally worth it, though."

Although Nick didn't say anything, he unleashed that knowing smile of his before he walked out the door. Judy counted his steps, focusing on anything other than that smile or his emerald eyes or the fur on his back. He must have been taking small steps, as she got to twenty-two before the lock on her door clicked back into place.

And Judy moved from her spot. She tumbled onto her bed, releasing a cloud of linen-fresh scent mixed with a few specks of dust that had missed her inspection. Over the span of a few minutes, she allowed the trembling in her paw to dissipate naturally and flow into her terrifically soft comforter. She thought about the fox who had just left her apartment, his intoxicating scent still lingering in the air above her bed. It was possible for her to be patient, Judy knew that; yet, she had never really tested _how_ patient she could be. And Nick seemed poised to test her.

For now, though, Nick had called things correctly: once the energy of his presence left, exhaustion overwhelmed her. She gladly nestled into the comforter and waited for the calming scent of Nick and linen to lull her into a much-needed slumber.

She was so close to reaching it when two familiar and incessant voices hovered near her door.

"I told you to take the Number _Five_ bus!"

"Are you a moron? It's Number _Three_! Always has been!

"Moron? Oh, that's great coming from _you_ , you thick-headed…."

"So much for sleep…" she grumbled as their door clicked open, and the first of many hooves hammered on the wall.

* * *

 _Well now, wasn't that something? An exciting day for Judy, no doubt! Thanks for reading, and get ready to hop back on the trail in Part IV!_


	17. Chapter 5: Part IV

**_A/N:_** _First off, I wanted to take a moment to announce a **brand new project** that is in the works. It's the story of an ordinary mammal who, after being subjected to a massive dose of Night Howler serum, finds himself gifted with incredible powers. He has the strength of twelve average-sized otters. He can hear his wife shouting at him from a mile away. And he can run away faster than the train to Zootopia._

 _Emmitt Otterton is **The Night Prowler**!_

 _The new story is in progress, with **Berserker88** contributing significantly to it. I had planned to start it right after Run ended, but it might be starting a little sooner. We will see._

 _If you want a sneak peek of what's to come in the story, check out **Quirky-Middle-Child** on DA and Tumblr (links won't post here, sadly). He's completed a truly **gorgeous cover** for the project, and it'll give you a taste of what you'll see in the story. Head over to his page and check it out!_

 _So, here's another section of Run! We'll get to see a little more of the professional Judy (and the section might just end with a smile). Hope you enjoy!_

 _A great big thank you to **winerp** for his continued excellence in proofing and editing this story. A lot goes in this chapter, and I appreciate his time and thoughtfulness in going through it all._

 _Thanks for the reviews from **JackFrost21, AngloFalcon, HawkTooth, Omnitrix 12, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps,** and **Berserker88.** I'm grateful for all the feedback you all have generously offered!_

 _And thank you to everyone who reads, faves, and follows. For those of you just now joining us, welcome to this little reading circle!_

 _Happy reading! ~ Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

"You're on in five minutes, Miss Hopps."

Through a plume of powdered makeup that perfectly matched her shade of gray, Judy acknowledged the clearly harried production assistant with a grunt. The makeup artist was being incredibly thorough, and Judy did not wish to upset the pad-wielding goat. "An even and shiny coat" was the goal, as that supposedly looked the best in the lens of the fancy high-definition cameras awaiting her outside.

Initially, this campaign stop at a university auditorium was going to be simple: go on stage, make some remarks, answer a few questions, and she'd be on her way to something else. And compared with her last stop with the _Mannered_ Mammals, it was going to be a welcome breeze. But, after that rough stop yesterday, a lot of news crews were eager to put her face back on TV, and this historic auditorium would make for the perfect backdrop on the evening news. The university had limited the number of cameras allowed into the room (they needed space for a few students and a greater number of influential alumni, after all), but the ones that made it in would be serious cameras manned by professionals.

Of course, this wasn't her first time near this kind of equipment. The Night Howler Incident had exposed her to some of it, as had the late-night talk shows and other assorted appearances she had endured for that whole following year. Always backstage, Nick would walk her through it, making sure she didn't look like a complete buffoon. She would typically strike a natural-enough pose and garner a few giggles from a live audience (Nick would occasionally provide a joke in Judy's prep work, and those usually went swimmingly as the rest of the world somehow agreed with Nick's sense of humor). But, those cameras had followed her under friendlier circumstances. Now, she wasn't sure whose side they'd be on.

At some point yesterday or this morning (Judy had severe difficulty remembering right now), Nick had summarized his plan for handling the media with the apt phrase of "kill 'em with kindness." While twiddling away on his phone, Nick had explained that the positivity of Judy's message would outweigh the negativity of recent media coverage so long as they stuck to it. It sure didn't feel like that to her, not when she kept seeing her face in print, hearing her voice on television, or scrolling through the unfiltered online comments of reporters and their ilk. He said that "regular mammals will get it," but everything around her told a different story.

As a prime example, Zootopia's political pundits were hard at work picking sides and tearing into her. On a little screen situated by the blinding lights of the makeup mirror, she watched them gesture ostentatiously and heard them dig into her future:

"With this Mansoa case, I feel that Miss Hopps has shown that she isn't ready to manage the affairs of a major city. It was a high priority case that she just couldn't close. And I feel it weakens further her argument that her experience as a police officer will translate to another area of civil service."

Though, in all fairness, some stood behind Judy: "What are you talking about? That was an impossible case, Clive. This city is huge, and she did more than what most mammals could manage. Her work ethic is nigh unassailable, and she even had the courage to admit a mistake rather than pass the buck – _that's_ the kind of leadership I want!"

Clive, a buck with splendid ten-point antlers, appeared distraught for the briefest of moments before he resumed his argument. Judy, however, would not hear his rebuttal as the goat doing her makeup began chatting. "Oh, don't listen to all that noise! You give a lot of people a lot of hope, Miss Hopps, even if these talking heads don't see that."

The positivity raised her fur. There was a charge to it, an undeniable electricity that struck Judy without warning. She started to offer her thanks but was silenced as the pad smoothed out some chalky bits around her mouth. "Sorry, miss, but I gotta make sure I get it all! You need to look good on TV when you give it to those media jerks."

And Judy lost her need to talk. Nick had been adamant that she had to find the positive within a sea that had become darker than she had ever envisioned. When she was with Nick and could savor the sweet nothings he would give her, things were easier, happier. But, she had wanted to experience more from the public about how they really felt. Not through the media — not anymore — she just wanted the average mammal's opinion. And with a few minutes to go until she delivered this very big speech, she had found one such mammal. Nick would be so disgustingly pleased to know he had been right.

With a light tap on her shoulder, the goat signaled she was complete. It took a few blinks to adjust her eyes, but when Judy saw herself, she gasped. She had always had smooth fur (much to the envy of her siblings…and, if Judy were being extremely immodest, the envy of _plenty_ of rabbits in Bunnyburrow). But, as she delicately drew her paw along the curves of her cheeks and felt what her eyes were showing her, she was left speechless. Coupled with another sharp outfit selected by Mom, Judy certainly looked the part of a politician.

The production assistant returned with a foot that tapped at a million miles an hour. "Ninety seconds, Miss Hopps. Ready to go yet?"

As quick as bunnies could be, Judy hated being rushed (at least, when she wasn't the one doing the rushing). But, the moment had arrived, and she could do nothing to delay it. She stole one more glance at the mirror and the sparkle in her eye before profusely thanking the goat and answering, "Yes."

The production assistant guided her out into a long hallway and started to say something before his phone burbled with one of presumably a thousand tasks left to do. While the assistant was some company, at that precise moment, the only mammal she wanted next to her was Nick. He had double-booked himself and was busy halfway across town at present. When he had scheduled this event, he had expected a few political science students at best; with the auditorium projected to fill to capacity, Judy was sure Nick was kicking himself for missing this one.

As she walked down the hallway, she took a moment to think back and realize that she hadn't really seen much of Nick since their time together in her apartment last night. Her wake-up call had arrived _far_ too early, and she had blearily responded to his cheeky jibes over the phone. Besides that, Nick had been "on assignment" (an assignment he must have given himself) for the day, leaving Judy to fend for herself. She had wrapped up a few errands and made small talk with citizens who met her in the grocery store checkout lanes. They had been kind but reserved, which left Judy nervous as she bagged her supplies. She did calm down when she reached out to her image consultant (Mom giggled when she first heard her new title) to settle on the blue blouse and burgundy blazer combination she was sporting tonight.

"Just around the corner, Miss Hopps." The assistant's voice almost disappeared along with Judy's footsteps in the tall and open space of backstage. Other production mammals were scurrying about, prepping themselves for a crowd they surely had not planned for. All that movement started to worry Judy, and she anxiously tapped her phone awake.

Though Nick couldn't be there in person, he had done what he could. The email sat on her phone, illuminating the lavender in her eyes as she scrolled through his notes, which were surprisingly calming. They would stick to the original plan: a solid speech, followed by a round of questions and answers. Nick had offered suggested responses to what questions would probably pop up (lack of experience, Kyle Mansoa, things of that nature). And he even signed off with a smiley face, which had Judy grinning as she reached the very edge of the stage where a curtain still hid her.

"Hold here." A fuzzy little paw landed on Judy's stomach, and she waited behind the velvety red curtain – fresh and new, by the look of it. Her curious eyes tried to peek around its hem and count the members of the crowd. All she could see were various styles of ears flitting around as the audience chatted about nothing discernable.

"Okay, Miss Hopps. We're going to wait here until Mr. Moosebridge completes his intro, and then we'll send you to center stage. Your podium's mic is already hot, so once you start talking, everyone can hear it. Got it?"

She nodded, even though her mind was still turning over one particular point the assistant had raised. "…wait, Moosebridge? _Peter_ Moosebridge?"

The assistant did not seem pleased by her query. He let out a long and tired sigh. "Yes, the news anchor. His channel is cutting in live to cover your speech. Didn't they tell you?"

"Um…." Perhaps it would have been better for Judy not to know. Her stomach had already been bursting with butterflies; now, she feared they would fly from her mouth. She had met Moosebridge once before at an after-party for one of the shows she was on. Off-camera, he was actually quite soft-spoken and a tad skittish, as if ready to slip away unseen whenever he could manage it. She had offered a polite hello, and they had actually gotten to talking before Nick had run up with a mouthful of cricket patty from the free buffet and spewed it all over Mr. Moosebridge while giving his own muffled greeting. Behind this stage, she cringed as she remembered that, hoping Mr. Moosebridge had forgotten by now.

Although, no matter how Mr. Moosebridge still felt about Nick, her partner would probably still want to gawk at her smooth complexion on television. She fired off a quick text: _Turn on TV. About to go on. Bet u wish u were here._

"Esteemed guests," boomed the amplified voice of the news moose. He began his short introduction, but only the cadence of his words registered with Judy. It reminded her of the proprietor of the "Strongest Bunny" game at the Bunnyburrow fair. That so-called _game_ involved a too-soft rubber mallet that a player would use to hammer a too-hard target and send a metal slug rocketing toward a bell on the top. "Ring the bell, win a prize!" this proprietor would shout, coaxing naïve fairgoers into a losing bet. Though, somehow, Gideon Gray had secured a prize, likely using a little intimidation to sway the game in his favor.

"…and now, please welcome Candidate for Mayor Judy Hopps to the stage!"

Judy cut short her little mental trip back home and, after the assistant gave her a rather terse cue, she walked with care and precision across the stage. She measured every step, one foot in front of the other, maximizing the time she could spend waving at the applauding crowd. And this crowd was loud — much louder than the Mannered Mammals could have ever managed. She couldn't exactly make out who was in the audience — the stage lights were far too bright and turned everyone into clapping shadows — but it sounded like a good mix of all kinds of mammals. _Perfect_.

This podium stood a few inches higher than the last one she had spoken at. Made from oak and varnished to a shine, her pulpit glowed under the bright stage lamps. Unlike the decrepit hall of yesterday, her new stage stood within a breathtakingly ornate theatre hall. All around her were frescoes of important university mammals that had started to just slightly peel from the wall. There was a richness to the room, an unshakable ambiance of history that both humbled and enlivened Judy as she ascended the riser behind the podium and adjusted her microphone.

In time, the applause died down and, aside from the errant cough or sneeze, the room feel silent. If Judy listened very carefully, she could hear the sound of her short breaths pop against the microphone and bounce around the room through a powerful speaker system. She had never spoken in this kind of austere setting (even the ZPD graduation ceremony had been held outside), and some of her nervousness crept down her forelimb and had her paw twitching.

Nick had given her advice on how to handle this type of situation before. "Imagine them all in their underwear." It was trite and silly, and most of the time, Judy would assume it to be ineffective. But, in front of this crowd of discerning eyes, she decided to give it a shot. She squinted just enough to pick out a few mammals, and she stifled a laugh as she imagined the rotund raccoon in the front row sitting in his boxers. Her paw ceased its twitching.

"My fellow Zootopians," an effervescent Judy began, "thank you all for being here this evening." After she showered more gratitude on the university for the use of this facility, to Mr. Moosebridge and his network, and so on, she let more applause recede before getting to the heart of the matter.

"It has been a difficult few days, not only for me but also for our city. We have seen what can happen to mammals who lose their way in Zootopia, who are left to fend for themselves. And I have seen how tough it can be to bring those mammals back. It's one thing to stand before you and talk about creating opportunity…but it's another to witness _why_ having opportunity is so important to our city's future."

Judy wasn't sure what to plan for after that line; Nick had offered a few suggestions in his notes, ranging from total silence to raucous booing. It ended up being something in the middle: Soft applause rang out from the crowd — not patronizing or polite, but a sincere sound of mammals listening and appreciating her words. It was moving, and it brought forth the tiniest of smiles.

"A lot of us, I believe, take those opportunities presented to us for granted. Most of us don't mean to — it's just all we've known, and we can't imagine it any other way. But, standing in that alleyway, I realized how much we don't know about each other, how much we do not understand the trials of others, and the tough decisions our fellow mammals make. Especially those who struggle to keep food on their tables and roofs over their heads. For many in our city, opportunity is a distant dream."

 _This time around, honesty is the best policy._ That line from Nick's email had been engrained in her mind. It was so unusual for Nick to write something like that (and she could scarcely believe that he actually adhered to it). But, this time around, it seemed to be working. Through the bright stage lamps, she caught glimmers in the eyes of mammals who were suddenly beholden to everything she said. And that included the camera operators, and the reporters who had lambasted her just hours earlier.

"But now, we as a city can come together and help make the dreams of so many into reality. We can bring opportunity to those who have never known it, and we can start _now_. It will not be easy, and it will not happen overnight. It will be a long process."

She shuffled her feet and positioned herself in a stronger stance toward the crowd. "Yet, we all know something about long processes, don't we? I do, certainly. Becoming a police officer – the first one like me – was a long process. I had a lot of help, I had a lot of mammals who believed in me. But it took a long time for me to reach this point, where I can stand before you as a confident citizen of Zootopia and say all of this to you."

The crowd murmured. She still wasn't entirely sure if they were agreeing or not, but the fact that she wasn't being shouted offstage was a good sign. It emboldened her to move around more freely at her pulpit, to put even greater power behind her words.

"I was fortunate to have so many believe in me, to have the opportunity to become something here in our fair city. And I want the same for _every_ mammal. For every little bunny or fox or otter or anyone to dream big and to have a way – a true path – to realizing that dream. This is what city leadership is about, and it's what I pledge to do for you – for _all_ of you – as mayor."

Judy paused and leaned back an inch or two from the microphone. This was the point of biggest worry that Nick had noted. How the crowd responded to that would likely dictate the success of the speech as a whole. Her pause did also give her the chance to breathe deeply and calmingly, but her breath almost caught in her throat as she awaited the crowd.

And they gave her applause. And it was not soft and polite, the kind that appears when the crowd is lost and confused and just wants to get someone off the stage. It was warm, excited, thrilled by what she had to say. She let her effervescence bubble through, and her smile was radiant under the bright stage lights.

Eventually, they quieted down enough for Judy to resume. "Now, to do all of this, we have a long road ahead of us. As it stands, we have no real safety net for those who are in greatest need. For them, it's tough to even know where to begin. Our first major challenge, then, is to provide a starting point that can help any mammal."

She could tell by the silence that she had the audience held in rapt attention. And it would remain that way as she delved into more details, outlining the structure of a social services system that would support all mammals of Zootopia. From the police force (her forte) and income support to jobs and careers, she covered a beautiful plan for her beautiful city. The crowd applauded when it should have, and Judy could feel the energy electrifying the air in the room. Students, alumni, news crews, they were all listening intently – passionately – to Judy speak. She spoke from her heart, and it connected.

But, speaking from her heart was a long endeavor. She eclipsed her half-hour mark by five minutes and would have gone on longer had she not caught the frantic waving of the production assistant from backstage. Her wrap-up was short and led directly into a few minutes reserved for questions and answers.

Two microphones at opposite ends of the auditorium stood as portals to Judy's ear. The line at each of them filled up incredibly quickly, and Judy was soon faced with a rather intelligent barrage. Most audience members simply asked for clarifications on some of her policy thoughts. Others were a little sharper:

"So, Miss Hopps, you mentioned your time on the police force as being useful for your plan as mayor. However, you have only been on the force for one year. How do you feel that shows commitment to a long-term course of action?"

This was certainly not the first time Judy had been questioned on this point. And usually, the questioner was a little skittish when they asked it, but this young aardvark stood proud, almost defiant, as he asked. She wondered how many years into his political science degree he was.

"You are correct in that I have only served for one year. But, remember that for me, this was a long-term goal, one that many mammals thought I could never achieve. To reach the point where I could get a badge, I worked for _years_. Dedicated, tough work that taught me the value of planning for the future and working hard to get there. It was a humungous barrier that I had to climb, one that I know many more mammals face today. And I believe that lends me a necessary perspective to the work of the mayor's office, to understand on a fundamental level the work that needs to be done and how we can accomplish it through long-term and directed action."

They didn't have the time for follow-up questions, but the aardvark nodded along and seemed satisfied with her response as he went back to his seat. And Judy thought about just how big Nick's grin would be, knowing he had prepped her exactly right.

The lights had been dimmed so she could better view the mammals asking her questions. A fair number of them seemed youthful, hopeful even. A few of them were grouchy, pouting and frowning whenever she responded to a long query (fortunately, there were just a few of those). But in the middle section of seating, a row away from where the microphone was stationed, Judy could see one particular set of piercing eyes directed right at her. They weren't malicious…no, they were calculating, studying every syllable Judy spoke and every twitch her body exhibited.

It didn't surprise Judy that someone from the Lobos camp would be monitoring her; in fact, she would have been disappointed had they not deemed her worthy of being followed. Yet, never would she have suspected that Izabella Lobos would be the one trailing her. The wolf smirked when Judy made the connection — Judy's little gasp away from her microphone must have been so plain to such a practiced and intelligent creature as Izabella. The whole episode almost prevented Judy from hearing the next question from the audience, this one delivered by a young deer who had barely sprouted his antlers.

"…so with that in mind, what do you feel you've learned from the Kyle Mansoa experience that you could use as mayor?"

She snapped back to it and nodded as she pretended to think it over. A part of Judy believed that she had fully answered that in her speech. In fact, she realized that many of the audience's questions had been previously covered. It was admittedly tiring to have to rehash everything, but it was a good opportunity to practice her responses (and grab some additional time on TV). So, she humored them.

"I am still shaken by Mr. Mansoa's condition – and I hope for his speedy recovery. And as I reflect on it, I realize that Mr. Mansoa taught me how important it is that we all look out for one another. It's humbling to be reminded that many in our city need a strong support network. They need family, friends, mammals they can count on. It seems that Mr. Mansoa did not have that, and I wish we could have done more to help. And I think it shows just how vital it is for us to help one another…."

Another minute or two was dedicated to a few key points in her plan (and she soon lost count of how many times she said "opportunity"). But, it seemed to be working well, and the audience responded positively. Eventually, the lines dwindled as ushers cut off eager students, alumni, and community members (everyone wanted to ask Judy something, it seemed). And after thanking them all one more time, she walked off the stage with a gleam in her eye while the crowd gave her a standing ovation.

It was such a reversal from her last experience. And it warmed her, enlivened her, as she met the production assistant backstage. He smiled, the first time she had actually seen his whole face without a screen in front of it. And he looked genuinely pleased. "What a pleasure to hear you speak, Miss Hopps."

Before she could say anything, though, he disappeared back into his device and used a free paw to direct her back toward the long hallway. Each of her steps was light, as if her excitement would lift her off the ground. She wanted to share her excitement with someone – it was almost too much for her to handle on her own. She went to her phone; Nick had beaten her to it. Her paw jittered in delight as she tapped open the message.

 _Sorry Carrots, didn't see it._

Her feet were leaden, and she could again hear her footsteps plodding on the cold tile floor. His words, his plan, had gone so well and come off so elegantly. And he had missed it.

Judy had not spent much time reminiscing about her last encounter with Nick (she had little time to spare). But, residual warmth had clung to her throughout the day, and she could swear that she smelled his beautifully complex scent everywhere she went. Her lips had quivered all day as she remembered and imagined, but now, she was left chillier. She had desired, more deeply than she thought, to share with Nick the visceral joy of her onstage moment, a feeling almost comparable to that special moment in her apartment. To miss that moment, though…surely, he had planned for this. He must have had some trick up that freshly-pressed sleeve of his.

Her phone buzzed with his follow-up; it was almost scary how prescient it was. _I've already got it recorded, don't worry. If it's even possible for you not to worry._

She might have even given him a laugh were he standing next to her. Occasionally, the fox could almost be a little funny. Comedy, though (as Nick told her before), was heavily dependent on timing. And for someone who missed the program, he had been rather precise in his timing. Perhaps Nick wasn't watching the coverage, but he _had_ to have been paying attention another way, scouring the web and whatnot. That renewed the warmth and lightened her feet just a bit. She was a few letters into her reply when she heard the assistant's foot tapping behind her.

"Miss Hopps." Judy almost lost control over her sigh but managed to keep quiet while stowing her phone. She followed the assistant's paw, which pointed toward the end of the hallway. Security guards (grizzly bears, as best as Judy could tell) blocked the entrance, but over one bouncer's shoulders, Judy spotted pointed ears flitting about. "There's a wolf here who says she knows you. An _Izabella_?"

Judy immediately froze. To have Izabella Lobos observe her from the auditorium was fine; Judy liked showing off a bit for the opposition. But here in the hallway, as Judy soaked in the pleasure from a job well done, Izabella could possibly be damaging.

Though, Judy could also maybe use this to her advantage. Perhaps when alone, Izabella would be willing to divulge more information about her husband. Judy swallowed her fear and nodded at the assistant. "I do. Please let her through."

With a curt wave of his paw, the assistant informed security to allow Izabella to pass. The wolf was not robed in a garment as gorgeous as that scarlet dress from the gala, but even in less formal attire, Izabella couldn't help but look stunning. She flowed gracefully around the security cordon and seemed to flutter down the hall. Judy tugged on the sleeves of her jacket, partly to improve her appearance and partly to hide her aggravated nervous tic.

When Izabella arrived, she was practically gushing. "Miss Hopps! Oh, it was a joy to hear you speak. Very well done."

Her enthusiasm was not unappreciated, though Judy detected a hint of forced kindness beneath the tone of exultation. "Thank you, Mrs. Lobos. I did spy you from the podium. To be honest, it was a little surprising seeing you here."

Izabella smoothed out the wrinkle — the only imperfection — on her sundress before flashing a toothy smile. "Ah, well, while I do enjoy listening to my husband incessantly, a dash of variety keeps me…entertained, I suppose. May I walk with you for a bit?"

A little taken aback by the wolf's request (as she had expected more of a fight to get Izabella to talk), Judy simply nodded and let Izabella fall into a rhythm with her. The production assistant had scurried away, probably to address yet another issue in what must have been a terrifyingly long list. Left alone, the wolf and the rabbit wandered down the hall in the general direction of the makeup room, where Judy had left a few personal effects.

"Truly wonderful speech, Miss Hopps. You speak very passionately. Do you write all of it yourself?"

Judy waffled on her answer: she wasn't eager to speak on her campaign team's creative strategy, especially with how close the polls were (or had been, pre-Mansoa — the new ones were due soon), but she didn't want to outright lie about it either and twist her stomach into knots. She eventually settled with, "No, it's a team effort. Nick does some good work. And we all contribute to shape it."

"Ah, now I could believe that! But _you_ are the one who makes it shine, Miss Hopps." While Izabella had given a decent compliment, Judy was anxious to open the door with one of her own questions. Before she could get one out, though, Izabella continued in a softer voice. "Speaking of Nicholas, I haven't seen him anywhere. Did you bring him with you?"

"I'm afraid not. He's…occupied."

A few strands of fur had separated from Izabella's pristinely manicured coat, right around her neck. The swaying pieces reminded Judy of Nick's fur on the nape of his neck as she had snuggled closer. They were mildly distracting, though not enough to prevent Judy from being pulled back in by the dusky tones of her wolf companion. "Oh? What a shame. I so very much enjoyed my time with him before."

" _That_ must be a first…" Judy grumbled. Izabella must have heard it, as she laughed vigorously.

Through a few tears of mirth, Izabella explained: "I think he's a very clever fox. He makes for excellent company: dashing, charming, with just a hint of mischief."

 _Much more than a hint_. But, she withheld the snarkier comments regarding Nick. He _was_ her manager, after all, and Judy could not gallivant around and freely make fun of Nicholas Wilde. It would be terribly unprofessional...and providing more ammunition for the Lobos camps would not be a prudent decision. Plus, without Nick around, she could not enjoy the theatrics of his responses. "That's very kind of you, Mrs. Lobos."

"Izabella, please. I just presumed he would be here with you. I've mentioned this before, but you two appear to be incredibly _close_ for work partners."

The hallway was truly empty. Besides their voices, only the sounds of their feet filled the space. Judy let ten loud footsteps pass before answering Izabella. "We've spent a lot of time together."

More of Izabella's fur was standing up. It had spread across her neck and onto the very edge of her forelimb. There was something bothering her —that was plain to Judy. What exactly that subject was, however, eluded the keen detective. At least, it hid from her right up until Izabella stopped and brought her head down, leveling her eyes with Judy's. A sweet scent, like orchids and honey, came with Izabella's breath as she whispered, "Perhaps I'd normally be coyer in asking, but I must confess, I am terribly curious: Are you and Nicholas a…thing?"

Big lavender eyes flickered as Judy blinked four times. "A thing?"

Izabella straightened and deftly hid her chuckle behind a paw. "Oh, Miss Hopps, you know what I mean…."

Actually, Judy did know, but feigning ignorance was admittedly more fun. Though, as they stood apart here in the hallway, Judy wondered if the _feigning_ bit was a little inaccurate. Her mind processed a lot of data very quickly, all to arrive at her answer: she didn't have a good answer to that question at all. But, her mouth had already committed to start, and she let it mumble a few sounds. "Ah, right, a _thing_. It's…well…no, not really…."

Mercifully, Izabella cut short Judy's response (or lack thereof). "Aww, it is endearing to see you blush!"

As furtively as she could, Judy measured the temperature of her cheeks with the back of her paw, and the coolness of her face surprised her. She almost went to correct Izabella before her wayward glance caught the ruddy mess spreading across her chest, which certainly "popped" against the blue of her shirt. She thought about drawing the jacket more closely around her, to shield her reddening body from the sharply honed eye of Izabella, but it was a moot point now.

This was nearly the worst outcome of this exchange for Judy. She had allowed Izabella to seep into her mind and extract a very deep and complex set of emotions. Though that particular jumble of feelings surrounding Nick was confusing, Izabella had gained some highly valuable intelligence in simply knowing the enigma existed, and Judy had so far come away with nothing.

There in the hallway, about twenty steps from the makeup room, Judy decided to turn it around. She snapped the lapels of her jacket into place and breathed deeply. The reddening patch receded. After suffering a barrage of personal questions, it was time for Judy to fire a return volley.

"So, did you just come here to see Nick?"

Sadly for Judy, Izabella was well prepared for an interrogation. The sundress flowed around her like a field of carrot-tops in the middle of summer as the wolf pulled out an ochre-colored piece of stationery and deflected Judy's opening salvo. "Well, while I would be delighted to have some time with Nicholas, I have enjoyed our short tête-à-tête. You are a fascinating creature, Miss Hopps. And that leaves me even more thrilled to extend this invitation to you. Arturo and I would be honored if you and your…let's call him _partner_ , would join us for dinner."

It would be uncouth for Judy to express her welling frustration, and somewhere in her mind, she understood that. Mom had been a stickler for manners and had instilled a deep appreciation for politeness. It had served her well so far on the campaign trail, but Judy faced her greatest test here. A decorated officer with solid experience in interrogation techniques had clearly been bested by this wolf. Judy's blushing had given away the farm, and she had come away with zilch. A dinner with the Lobos couple would provide another chance — redemption for today's mistake. But Judy had to clench her teeth as she accepted the letter. "Thank you, M... _Izabella_. It'd be our pleasure."

Izabella clapped her paws together, and the echo ended up rolling around somewhere back toward the bouncer. "Splendid! I will have someone coordinate all of those fussy details. That letter has our address on it. And with that completed, I do believe I should allow you to resume your campaign stops, though I do relish our time together. I cannot wait to repeat this soon."

Judy couldn't get another word in as Izabella took her leave, the wolf in the sundress fluttering away down the hall with an elegance that almost had Judy driving her fist through the wall. It would take some time for Judy to self-evaluate and figure out what exactly made her feel so batty about Izabella Lobos. For now, after her time on stage and this exchange, she was exhausted. Judy simply wanted to collect her belongings and pass out on her bed.

On her way to the (now empty) makeup room, her phone buzzed again. While verbally dancing with Izabella, Judy had plain forgotten to send Nick a reply. She sighed and popped open the message.

 _First reports from news came in. They adored you, Carrots. Knew they would._

Her mind demanded proof, and she dug into a few news outlets' websites. This time, honesty was Nick's policy. Phrases like _strong voice_ , _captivating message_ , and _leader-like poise_ repeated within article after article. The more she read, the more effervescence returned.

"Kill 'em with kindness, eh, Nick?"

She laughed while she stowed the ochre stationery in her jacket pocket, along with the bitterness toward Izabella (and herself). She was beaming as she left the makeup room.

Ahead of her this evening, Judy had a few more errands to run (between which she would tap out her lengthy set of replies to her manager). Some supplies for a late-night speechmaking practice session in front of her full-length mirror remained on her list. And as she approached the exit to the auditorium, where she witnessed the first of many camera flashbulbs doing its job, she was actually excited to talk with the mammals in the checkout lanes.

* * *

 _See? It ends with a smile :). I hope you enjoyed!_


	18. Chapter 6: Part I

_A/N: Alright, here we are in Chapter 6! What a ride it's been so far. I've really enjoyed building this world and sharing it with you, so thank you very much for being a part of it._

 _Extra-special thank yous this time go to **winerp** for being an outstanding beta-reader and helping me work through a lot of changes in this section, and to **Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps** for helping me figure out a tough scene. Thank you both for sharing your wonderful talents with me!_

 _And thank you to all of you who reviewed the story recently: **Cimar, Omnitrix 12, Combat Engineer, HawkTooth, Berserker88,** and **Keftense.** I appreciate all of your thoughts and opinions!_

 _And thanks to everyone who reads, faves, and follows. It's great to have you in this little readers' circle of ours :D._

 _Happy reading - Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

"Three points, Nick! We're still _three points behind_!" Judy could barely control her flailing paw, and her phone nearly flipped out of her grip. Judy's commotion must have gotten to Nick as he took his eyes off the road just long enough for the cruiser to drift into the other lane. The blaring horn of the neighboring semi-truck set him back on the proper path.

"Just a preliminary poll, Carrots. Nothing to get us killed over."

Judy had been surprised by Nick's phone call this morning. After her grand performance on the impressive university stage (which, apparently, was not helping her out as _grandly_ as she hoped), her evening had been uneventful. A few mammals had gawked at her as she bought five "Carrots for One" meals ("Big-Bunny" sized, of course). And the mirror in her apartment had not berated her when she delivered her practice speech a couple dozen times. Really, she had planned for Nick to be away "on assignment" today; she had a whole heap of laundry ready to wash when he called and told her to come outside. She had tossed on some casualwear (one of the few clean items remaining), which had been the correct choice as Nick had resurrected his favorite flowery shirt.

They had been driving for…twenty minutes? Maybe even thirty? She'd lost track (well…she hadn't really been tracking it since Nick wouldn't reveal their destination) as the news alert she had added for herself began pushing a host of articles to her phone. It had been strange to type her own name in the search bar, but ever since she had done so, she had been practically glued to her device. The new polls had been released, and the data had not been in Judy's favor. In fact, the dead heat seemed to have cooled; Judy now had _more_ ground to cover.

"I just… _grr_ , I can't believe it! We had so much good coverage last night. How could it not be higher…?" Now, Nick had been clear on just how useful (or useless) polls could be. The timing of the polls was one thing and picking the sample size and makeup was another. Really, there was a host of factors that could have contributed to it, which Nick had patiently explained during this drive. Still, that didn't prevent Judy from wanting to bash her head against the dashboard while reeling from the discovery that one good speech would not swing the whole election to her side.

"Dunno, Carrots."

Nick being short with her probably should have been expected. As she waited for another article with the exact same information as the other fifteen before it to load, she realized she had been complaining a _lot_ since hopping into the cruiser. Nick had been a decent-enough sport to play along, but he was probably tiring of it being the only thing they were discussing.

She reached for her phone's switch…and stopped when another article flitted into her taskbar, rekindling her righteous indignation.

"More, Nick! _Incredible_." She glanced over at him and found something akin to impassivity. Perhaps he was focused solely on the road, trying not to veer off the street and end up annihilating a place like Little Rodentia. Or, maybe he was avoiding her steely gaze, holding back his own frustration at having to answer yet another long question on this short (hopefully, short) drive. Regardless, she was genuinely curious about his thoughts and decided to chance mass mammalian destruction. "What do you think, Nick?"

He answered immediately, and Judy could tell how long he had been waiting to speak up. "I think, Carrots, it's times like these where getting off your phone might be helpful."

She almost laughed but thought better of it. "Coming from you? Wow, Nick."

"Just sayin'. You need a moment to process." One of his eyes slipped over toward her and snuck in a smooth wink. "And we need to keep those pretty eyes of yours in full view."

"Hmph. You think you're so charming."

" _Think_?"

That time, she did laugh before falling toward the window and contenting herself with watching the buildings go by. Gone were the shiny steel constructs of the financial districts; Nick had driven her somewhere toward the outskirts of the city's center. Even after a full year in town, it could be tricky making out the borders between the many neighborhoods that comprised each of Zootopia's districts. In most cases, it was a transition over several blocks, where decaying buildings could probably be mistaken for quaint or historic with some favorable lighting. Today, in the muted sunshine of mid-morning, they simply looked worn down.

They were a far cry from the gravitas of the university auditorium. Excitement from being onstage still buzzed through her. Nick had yet to mention anything about it (though, to be fair, Judy had done most of the talking today), and Judy remained terribly curious about Nick's take on the matter. "Did you get around to watching it?"

"Did I watch your performance? Yes, yes I did."

His cryptic response had Judy close to begging for something concrete. She gave Nick fifteen full and agonizing seconds before she simply couldn't wait any longer. "…well?"

"You did fine."

That was almost as bothersome as silence. She clenched her paws as her body leaned forward, dragged toward Nick by the vacuum of his non-answer. As any good detective would, she tried to dig deeper. "Fine?"

She knew that he was planning to mess with her; yet, that didn't stop it from happening altogether. Nick's smile glinted in the sun slipping through the windshield, the smile he reserved for only the best moments to rattle his partner. Though, admittedly, he did acquiesce after giving Judy a few seconds' worth of his toothy wonder. "A little shaky in your exit. And I did nod off a bit somewhere around minute seventeen…."

She elbowed him when he set free his inimitable laugh. "But it was okay?"

"Enough to put you within three points."

"That's not even _close_ to being funny, Mister Wilde."

"A matter of opinion, Miss Hopps." He chuckled as she grumbled an unkind word or two, giving her some breathing space before asking a question of his own (probably eager to prevent Judy from checking her phone). "And after you left the cameras behind, how did your evening on campus conclude?"

"Whelp…." After describing a few extraneous details about the makeup room and other points of interest in the empty hallway, Judy regaled Nick with the tale of her encounter with Izabella. Though it clashed with her casualwear, Judy had donned the same jacket that she had worn last evening, just in case. The envelope was still tucked into her jacket pocket, and it pressed against her as Nick executed a sharp right turn. Beyond the party invitation, she also mentioned (a tad sheepishly) how Izabella had pulled out a few unexpected emotions.

Nick was as smooth as ever as he absorbed the details Judy gave him. Nothing about Izabella's new insights seemed to worry him. In fact, he found room for a joke. "Looks like you'll have to be demoted, Hopps. Sixth – maybe even _seventh_ – smartest bunny for you."

"Har har, very funny, Nick."

"I know." Judy heard the snapping of the leatherine cover on the steering wheel as Nick gripped it more tightly. Something was churning in his head. "You know you'll have to hide that a little better, right?"

A wave of heat splashed across her chest. Nick had yet to mention the evening in Judy's apartment. When it came to where he stood on the matter, Judy was still clueless. Yet, he had opened the door a crack, wide enough to let the slimmest beam of hope shine through. At this point, Judy felt it wise to shift from political talk to something of a more personal nature. She cleared her throat, tugged on the sides of her shirt, and adjusted one of her ears.

"Yeah…it's just that—" Her phone could buzz quite loudly when it wanted to. Obediently, she activated it and skimmed yet another article. Thoughts of her talk with Nick evaporated as she read aloud her least favorite snippet. "…Miss Hopps sounded mayoral, but it wasn't enough to overcome her deficit…what does that even…I can't even look at this, Nick! Ridiculous."

"Yep, ridiculous."

At any other time, Judy would have noticed the disappointment that lingered behind his words. But the numbers of pollsters and the words of columnists angrily swarmed her. The noise bore an uncanny resemblance to her academy drill instructor, who had offered minute-by-minute accounts of how badly Judy would fail. Back then, she had understood how to improve, how to be better than the rest. Now, that path eluded her, and fear took the place of resolve. Her fear manifested as a touch of vitriol that leaked into her conversation with Nick. "Is talking about my campaign bothering you?"

"Our campaign."

She could barely hear over the sound of _wasn't enough to overcome her deficit_. "What?"

"That's what you meant to say, right? _Our_ campaign?"

The swarm of words was calming as she listened, _really_ listened, to Nick. Had she misspoken? That was entirely possible, but there were too many sounds in her head to focus on remembering just one. "Yeah, of course. Wait, what do you mean?"

Nick had solidified, his mask once again concealing whatever was truly going through his mind. "…tell you what, we'll revisit this later. For now, let's put on the _brakes_!" And the cruiser came to a screeching halt, and Judy's seatbelt clicked as it latched and tightened.

"Oof!" The belt stole her breath, and her phone nearly flew from her paw. She knew that Nick couldn't help his naturally emerging grin as he popped open his door, even if something was greatly troubling him. _Never let them see they get to you._

Their conversation naturally rested at the top of Judy's mind — she could not bury it as efficiently as Nick could manage — and she let his flat tone sink in. Worry had been consuming her for the entirety of their car ride…and, if she stopped to think about it, for the whole of the campaign. And Nick had been there, worrying alongside her – hiding it better, of course, but still….

And Judy _had_ given them cause for concern. Under the prying eye of Izabella, Judy had revealed herself, and she had nearly revealed more about Nick than he would likely care to share with that wolf. Judy had even accepted the invite to dinner without asking him first, as that was the _politically appropriate_ response. Judy palmed her phone, which buzzed with yet another story of "Judy Hopps, the Candidate"…just Judy. It was her way only, and that had to be getting to Nick.

She planned to reflect on her moment of humility as soon as possible (the smart part of her knew that Nick wouldn't let her discuss it outside of the cruiser anyway). For now, though, Judy drew her attention to her surroundings and worked to place herself. Once her mind settled as best it could, and she listened to the detective in her, she noticed a few interesting signs: significantly weathered buildings, shredded asphalt on the roads, and a creeping sense of heat that wormed its way through her window. "Where…hold on, I know this street."

"Not surprised," Nick said from the other side of her window. "C'mon, my dear candidate. Let's get you acquainted with a member of your doting public."

Some part of that sounded suspicious, but Judy did as she was instructed. As a good gentlefox should, Nick opened her door and guided her to the broken sidewalk, where her toes nearly sank into the deep cracks. The very air felt exhausted, like it was ready to give in completely…yes, she'd been here before.

With a paw placed squarely on the small of her back, Nick guided Judy up the stoop before rapping on the door. Her phone buzzed in her pocket for the eightieth time today, but she finally managed to ignore it and instead watched Nick fidget with the collar of his shirt. Just being near Nick had its typical effect on her, and, as if almost on instinct, she felt her ears drooping and her mouth starting to form "I'm sorry" as the moment of humility tried to return. But between the tugs he gave his collar, his gleaming emerald eyes told her to hang onto that for now. Realizing she should have listened to the smart part of herself in the cruiser, she played nervously with the tip of one ear while they stood on the porch of a tired-looking house. It had appeared wholly different from a block away, during that time when she had let its occupant scurry off with his loaf of bread.

She just barely heard the door click open. In the shadow of the well-worn front door, he seemed so much smaller than when she had apprehended him by the scruff of his neck. If this were Nick's special surprise location, then she was _definitely_ surprised.

As it stood, Judy would not have labeled little Martin the lynx as a member of her "doting public." While he had seemed kind enough after she had tackled him, she did not get the impression that he would be following her campaign anytime soon (or would even be voting in it – that whole underage thing could present a significant barrier). But as Martin swayed in the doorway, the onus was on Judy to start a conversation. She wasn't terribly sure if she should offer a trite icebreaker or sincere greeting…in reality, she had no clue if she should say anything at all, as her last chat with the lynx involved a few curt words.

Fortunately, Nick did not suffer from the same affliction. "Hey there, Martin. What's up?"

Unlike her last encounter with him, Martin sounded much surer of himself as he flashed a toothy smile. "Not much, Officer Wilde. Just got back home from school."

Nick sighed – his telltale sign of mockery. "Now, Martin, you _know_ you can call me Nick. Let's leave the _officer_ stuff for someone else." Nick let Martin sneak in a short chuckle before continuing: "Would you mind telling your mom that I'm here? And this time, I brought Miss Hopps."

Martin left his door hanging wide open as he sprinted back into his house, shouting for his mom. A flummoxed Judy simply stared at the empty doorway and tried to process Nick's exchange with the mammal she had nearly arrested. _This time?_ She almost queried aloud as Nick confidently strode past the door and into Martin's home. Judy scrambled to keep up.

Before Judy saw her, she heard her joyous and shrill shouts bouncing around an unnecessarily long hallway. " _Nick_ , oh, you rascal! Where are you – come here and say hi!"

Immediately, Judy could tell Martin was related to his mother. As she rounded a tight corner from what smelled to be the kitchen (the whiff of carrot something was undeniable), Judy recognized a lynx, svelte and a tad drained. The bags under her eyes betrayed an exhaustion, but it was one that Martin's mother hid well behind a heartwarming exuberance.

The moment she saw Nick, he was doomed; she had him in a spine-crushing hug, and his eyes bulged as she squeezed tightly. "Oh, Nick, how happy I am to see _you_ , you devilish fox, you."

"Nice… _urk_ …to see…you too…" Nick got out between staggered breaths. Martin's mother maintained her vice grip on Nick's lanky body for another few seconds before mercifully releasing him for air. He tried to hide his gasps as he offered her a really genuine smile. "So…I brought company…this time."

Without hesitation, Martin's mother swiveled toward Judy, and her eyes widened. "Miss Hopps in the fur! My dear, what an honor!" Martin's mother moved with incredible speed as her paws nearly enveloped Judy. Her rabbit instincts kicked in, and she sidestepped at just the right moment, with only half a paw brushing against her shoulder.

Naturally, Judy didn't wish to appear entirely rude and offered her alternate greeting quickly. "Great to meet you, Miss…uh, Martin's Mom." A few moments of preparation from Nick would have been useful about now, but by this point, he was too busy recovering from his bone-crushing hug to deliver any significant intel.

The older lynx carried on with a great cheer and without missing a beat. "Adeline, dearie. Care for some water? And I just finished baking a carrot casserole. Might've been made from carrots that were close to home for you — I remember reading you hailed from Bunnyburrow. Tell you what, I'll cut you a slice!"

Never one to pass an opportunity to enjoy a carrot anything (though a casserole with a scent profile like this one was exceptionally creative), Judy's mouth was watering as she spoke. "Sure…um, I mean, thank you, Miss."

" _Adeline_ , Miss Hopps. Adeline is alright by me."

"And you can call me…Judy," she tried to shout around the corner before the lynx slipped away to procure a hearty slice of casserole that smelled more delectable with each passing heartbeat. Martin must have noticed Judy's nose twitching, as he wore a shy smile and stared with the big, watery eyes that had convinced Judy to let him go. He looked similar, yet his attitude had shifted. He stood with a confidence, something born internally. Judy had stood in front of many mirrors like that, trying to convince herself that her dream of being a police officer – and now her goal of becoming a mayor – wasn't completely fanciful.

She looked at Martin for half a minute longer before the casserole stole her away. Her fork eagerly tore into the soft outer coating, releasing mashed carrots and a medley of accompanying vegetables and spices. Heavenly was not adequate to describe it. As she munched breathlessly on the casserole, she waved a complex pattern at Nick, using her paw to instruct him to fill in the host of missing details.

Oddly enough, he listened. "So, Adeline, Judy here is very pleased to meet you. I've yet to mention our little gatherings to her, but I think she'd be just delighted to learn how you and young Martin are doing."

Adeline was fiddling with the knot that tied together what must have at one time been a vibrant blue apron. Streaks of long-dried grease and stains from a thousand meals peppered the old cloth. She wrung the edge of it as she leaned against the wall, one foot still angled toward the kitchen. "Oh, certainly! Well, Judy, you've met my son already…though perhaps not under the _best_ of circumstances." She envenomed her words in the sweet but lethal way only a mother chiding her child can manage (Judy may have heard a similar tone a few times in her youth). Martin gulped and stayed silent.

And Judy thought it best to try to help out the little fellow. "That's alright. He was just hungry, right?"

Adeline nodded. "We have…some food. Never seems to be enough for a growing boy like Martin. Even so, I was none too happy when he came home with that loaf of bread. Now, had he nabbed a few of my heart pills for me…heh."

On the first pass, Judy didn't think it was a joke; she was slightly worried that her delayed response would make her appear slow or confused (more so than she already was). "Oh, hah, yes," she finally said with a shallow grin.

It was not enough to throw off Adeline, though her interpretation of Judy's delay was awfully kind. The lynx advanced and directed Judy and Nick toward a cramped sitting room. "You alright, dearie? You must be so very tired after all that campaigning and whatnot. Here, have a seat. It's my favorite chair — usually fall right asleep once I'm in it."

Velvety cushions enveloped Judy as the chair let her sink deeply. Sleep called to her from somewhere alarmingly close by. "Mmm, I can see why. Thank you."

While Judy was fighting to stay conscious, Adeline took to an ottoman opposite her and beckoned for Martin to sit at her feet. His obedience was automatic, and Judy thought about that hot morning when she had nabbed him by the corner of his shirt and heard him calling out to his mother. Judy's cleaned plate rested in her lap, and she drew her paw along its circumference while Martin toyed with three simple wooden puzzle blocks, purring softly when his mother draped a paw on his shoulder.

The carrots in her casserole tasted familiar somehow. As she smacked her lips a few times, Bunnyburrow popped into Judy's head, and she experienced a sudden burst of hope that one of her phone's incessant notifications would be from Mom or Dad. A lazy morning on her parents' front porch sounded incredibly good. And as Judy imagined herself lazing in the creakiest rocking chair in the tri-burrow area with a glass of blueberry juice sweating in her paw, she wondered about something concerning little Martin. "So, where is Martin's father? If that's not too much to ask right off the bat."

Adeline seemed almost eager to answer…though Judy couldn't catch Adeline's eyes as they flitted about the room while she answered — the detective in Judy recognized Adeline hiding from a very deep-cutting pain. "Not at all, dearie! He left when Martin was born. I've never known why…it just happened that way."

"Oh." Judy's eyes sidled over to Martin, who had been distracted from his puzzle block by a light spot in his fur that needed picking.

"He knows the truth." Adeline had probably explained this many times before. "I always wanted him to know about it. I think that's important. I mean, it's been just him and me all these years. I want him to know he can trust me with anything."

"Of course."

Adeline stroked the short fur behind her son's ears, and he shut his eyes and sighed contentedly. Their bond was evident to a seasoned cop like Judy (and, really, would have been obvious to just about anyone). Time together — the two of them alone in this old house — had created a special connection, one that many mammals would love to have. "But it's all worked out just fine, I'd say. I've got my li'l lovebug!"

The purring ceased immediately, and Martin was wide-eyed with a fear reserved for bouts of parental embarrassment. "Mom, stop!"

Judy couldn't help her chuckle. "Aww, lovebug, that's adorable!" Clearly, Martin didn't think so: he shuffled his feet and curled up into a tight ball, absently twisting one of his puzzle blocks. Judy empathized with the young lynx. "Y'know, my dad always called me 'Jude the Dude,' so you've got nothing to be embarrassed about." And Martin's smile returned in a hurry.

"Well," Adeline said with the grace of a refined hostess, "it is a pleasure to have you with us, Judy. You must be tremendously busy, and we don't want to keep you from everything you must have going on."

The glass of water had never made it to Judy's paw, and the richness of the casserole had dried her throat. Still, Judy put on her smile and muscled through it. "Oh, really, it's no trouble, Adeline. I'm…glad to have a moment to spend with you."

"Well now, that'll just make me blush!" With cheeks that were probably flushing underneath her ecru fur, Adeline beamed in front of a leaded-glass window whose panes had poured down over themselves with time. They were ancient, like most of this house. Adeline had obviously added a mother's touch, but it seemed an almost insurmountable battle.

"So, how has the campaign trail been treating you, Judy? I'm afraid I wasn't able to watch your speech…." Adeline gestured toward an empty alcove set into the wall where a television may have once glowed. "But Nick was kind enough to give me the updates from his phone."

"Did he now?" The mystery of his absence yesterday having been abruptly resolved, Judy craned her neck toward the fox leaning against the entryway. Nick had been banging around the kitchen — clearly, he had an innate sense of the house's layout — and had rustled up a handful of fresh blueberries. He was midway through popping one into his mouth when Judy's gaze landed on him.

"Oh, he sure loves his blueberries. He always brings us a fresh pack when he visits — and he's especially fond of the ones from your family's farm, Judy!"

"That's _so_ good to know, Adeline!" The fear shining in Nick's eyes was something magical. She started to wonder how much regret at bringing her here was surging through Nick's body right now. There had to be a purpose to it — one that Nick continued to hide — but she was curious how deep that purpose went. Perhaps he had simply needed to make a pit stop for a blueberry refill, and everything beyond that would be a bonus for his partner.

While Judy left Nick to stew in his ruminations, she answered Adeline's original question. "But yes, the campaign has been going well, thank you for…ehm, asking. Better recently — we got a lot of good coverage from the speech that…Nick filled you in on." A cough was imminent, even with Judy doing her best to bury it within her chest.

Perhaps it was a maternal instinct, but Adeline understood what was ailing Judy. She tapped her son on the head and whispered a direction into his ear. With no fuss, Martin rose and headed for the kitchen. While the faucet clicked on, and the glorious sound of rushing water filled Judy's ears, Adeline filled the gap. "That's wonderful to hear! I hope for nothing but the best for you and Nick and everyone who works with you."

Martin was fast, and soon, Judy downed a sweating glass of cool tap water. "Well, thank you. That's…very kind." While the drink took effect, she thought of how she would have liked to explain in greater detail how her team of volunteers had been ramping up their activities, sticking posters on walls and flyers in paws. She would have also enjoyed sharing the Otterton's latest video blog post – a brilliantly engineered piece that tugged on heart strings while championing Judy's message. And Judy would have loved to tell Adeline all about her latest campaign stops, to share the vibrating energy of being onstage and exciting a crowd.

But, the water took just a second too long to take full effect, and by then, Adeline had moved on to something Judy couldn't ignore. "I mean it, Judy. You have already made such a difference to my son's life. And my own."

Judy tapped the bottom of the empty glass, and it rang out with a delicate note. "What do you mean?"

With a heavy sigh, Adeline rolled her head to the window, staring outside at a once-proud city block, while Martin returned to his puzzle block. "My son's… _indiscretion_ that you prevented was not his first time. And he's nothing special — most little ones around here are usually arrested three or four times before they come of age. It makes for a…rough life."

"Oh." Judy had never been placed on the beat in this region (in fact, she wondered if Precinct One's service area even reached this far out). Besides her impromptu sprint after Martin, she knew nothing about these streets and these sidewalks. Adeline looked out the window with a terrible sadness that accentuated the bags under her eyes. The weariness Judy had suspected was beginning to reveal itself.

"Most police officers do not show mercy, not around here." As a sunbeam came through the window and brightened the tile floor by the ottoman, Adeline brightened, too. "But your choice to let him come home to me, it _changed_ him. He stopped skipping school, got his grades up, quit stealing everything that wasn't nailed down. Your partner popping by every now and then helped, I'm sure."

Through a mouth drenched in blueberry juice, Nick spat out, "It's all Martin, ma'am."

Adeline had slid off the ottoman and was kneeling by Judy's armrest. "I just want you to know, no matter how this mayor thing turns out…you must spend a lot of time doing some boring things, Judy. But, please know that your work matters. It matters to my son. And it matters to me."

The velvety chair groaned as Judy lifted herself out of its delightful embrace. Much like when she had first arrived at this house, she had absolutely no idea what to say. Here before her knelt a mother who loved her son intensely. Some in this world saw a predator; others saw a survivor. But at her core, Adeline was a _mother_ who wanted the best possible world for her son. There was no truer mammal who represented the opportunities Judy was fighting for.

And Nick Wilde was suddenly making a lot more sense. As the purpose of Judy's visit became apparent to her, she let herself turn toward Nick, who cracked his smirk as he watched Judy have her epiphany. He had devoured the blueberries, which left behind a splotch of indigo on the fur above his lip. It added an extra bit of goofiness to his dyed-indigo smile, and Judy giggled as Adeline went back to her son.

Nick tapped on his wrist — he didn't wear a wristwatch, but Judy figured it out anyway. "Uh, Adeline, thank you for hosting Nick and me in your home. It was a great pleasure to meet you and to hear how well Martin is doing."

"The pleasure was all ours, Judy! Thank you for making time. You are always welcome to visit again. Perhaps Nick will remember to ask you next time he makes his own stop?"

Judy ears clearly picked up Nick' gulp. His interrogation looming, he shuffled toward the door, likely hoping to get just enough of a head-start to avoid answering Judy's questions for another few seconds. "I will be sure to remind him, Adeline."

Nick offered his own pleasantries from the other side of the front door, eight steps ahead of Judy. She had planned to wait until they were back in the cruiser anyway, so Nick's speediness would be of little use to him. Judy thanked Adeline for a final time and let Martin hug her. His big watery eyes closed as he nestled into Judy's fur — Judy hadn't expected that much affection from the lynx, but she was happy to share just a few moments more with him. Eventually, he relinquished her, and she joined Nick in the already-running cruiser.

They made it down four city blocks before Judy launched her first salvo. "So…you like my family's blueberries?"

"I like the discount Stu gives me."

Judy had her paw on his shoulder and leaned into his ear, dropping in a hint of the solemnity she used when interrogating the most vicious of jaywalking suspects. "Alright mister, now don't play coy. You _knew_ she'd talk about your visits."

"Mhm." Nick played along like a veteran of the stage.

"How long have you been stopping by?"

He hummed, vacillating on which answer to give as they rounded a tight corner. "…the day after you nabbed him by the shirt. And broke my sunglasses."

"One of _four_ pairs you had!" She let him laugh before pressing on. "Why didn't you tell me you were doing this?"

His eyes never left the road. "I don't know. I didn't expect much the first time I came by, but I like Martin. He's…had it rough, and I think it's good for him to have someone to talk to. Guess I… understand."

On his way to the cruiser, Nick must have removed the photograph from his wallet, as it was now jutting out from his shirt's pocket, threatening to abandon its place and flutter to the floor. His _collection_ of shades notwithstanding, it was arguably his most treasured possession: a simple portrait picture of his mom. Ever since he first mentioned her during their gondola trip, Judy had wanted to meet Nick's mother. He always spoke so highly of her — she sounded like a wonderful fox. She would catch Nick just holding the photo whenever things got a little hairy around the office or when he ventured into his special room for a two-hour "break." He would wear the softest smile she had ever seen from him, one that he would alter into a smirk or a grin the moment Judy announced her presence.

She adjusted the photo in Nick's pocket, and he gasped as he discovered it had nearly fallen out. Nick was right: of anyone Judy knew, Nick would understand Martin the most. "Well…thank you for sharing this with me."

He wore that soft smile as the engine purred. "My pleasure, Carrots."

The sound of the cruiser rolling down progressively smoother roads filled the cabin, and Judy hummed in tune with the tires as she tapped on the window. Nick had done her a great service in sharing this unique thing with her…just like he had dedicated a lot of his time and energy to her – _no, our_ – campaign. She had struck a nerve before their visit with Martin and Adeline, and though Nick was liable to hide it, Judy couldn't adopt the same stoicism as her partner as the humble moment resurfaced. Her ears drooped in their telltale way, and she wrung her paws while she constructed an apology more full-bodied than the one she had begun on the porch. "About earlier…." Nick shifted in his seat. "I—"

That blasted phone was tremendously noisy, and it could easily mimic the buzzing sound that the columnists' words made in her head. It went off five more times before Nick piped up with the same disappointment as before. "You gonna check that?"

This time, Judy heard all of Nick. She smiled as she dampened her pocket with her paw. "Nah, not now. Let's just drive, okay?"

" _Fourth_ smartest bunny."

"How generous." They both smiled as Nick hit the accelerator. The tires sang as they hit shiny black pavement. She still had more to say to Nick – a _lot_ more – but something about the way he laid back in his seat suggested she should keep saving it for another time. He had that air about him, the one that arose when he was pleased with where things were (one usually apparent after pulling off a smooth con). She decided to enjoy that air with Nick and watched his smirk tug the corners of his mouth while they drove on.

Though Judy was glad she could spend the morning in a special way with him, she still had laundry to do (along with a million other things), and time was of the essence. "So…when are we getting back onto the trail?"

"I have a few stops for us today. Already grabbed an outfit for you — and yes, Bonnie signed off on it."

Her nose finally removed from her phone, Judy whipped around to find an emerald blouse and charcoal suit, freshly cleaned and pressed, laying across the back seat. Eyeballing it, Judy could tell it had been tailored to fit her perfectly. She couldn't recall ever purchasing this piece, but she felt compelled to ask all the same. "Were you…in my apartment today?"

His sly grin told Judy she was off the mark long before Nick's words could do it. "If by _apartment_ , you mean _department store_ , then yes."

"Funny as always, Nick." While he laughed, she toyed with her carrot pen, securely nestled in her pants pocket. It was always on her, though it hadn't recorded any new bits of information in a while, as there were few criminals spilling their guts on the campaign trail. She clicked it a few times, begging for a juicy tidbit to store in its memory. "You know, I kinda miss my police desk right now."

"You mean _our_ desk?"

She let his comment hang in the air for a few seconds. "Do I mean that? Yes, yes I do."

It made him laugh, and Judy sighed contentedly. She loved that laugh. Once he caught his breath, though, he delivered a quick reply, seemingly prepared to respond to her very specific desire. "I see. So, you wanna be a cop again, Miss Mayor?"

She had to stop giggling at the title long enough to try to reply. "Oh, Nick…."

"Whelp, I may have a few things back at my place to help you with that."

Another wave of heat passed over her, and she tugged on her shirt while popping him a coy smirk. "Very smooth, Mister Wilde."

His seat creaked as he shifted. "I'm serious. I, uh, _borrowed_ a few documents from the Mansoa case."

Her coquettishness transformed into shock and horror at a record pace. "You _what_!"

She heard his grip tightening again on the steering wheel. "No one will miss them — case is closed, remember? But I had a feeling you weren't done with it yet. So, after our stops today, how about you pay me a visit and we can do a little sleuthing?"

She was dumbstruck at Nick's audacity…and then the prospect of taking a personal angle on the investigation brought up familiar memories – fond ones – which slowly eased her nerves. As always, Nick had been thinking of her, even when she forgot that. As more stump speeches loomed in her afternoon, she took extra special comfort knowing that Nick would be there with her. She felt the friendly buzzing of her onstage euphoria balloon as thoughts of detective work blossomed, and as Nick whipped the cruiser around in a probably-illegal U-turn (she should likely give him a parking ticket for it, though she might let him slide with a warning this time), she planted the kind of big grin on her face that would make Nick proud.

"Sounds like a plan, _Officer_ Wilde."

* * *

 _And there we are! Hope you liked it. You can expect another drabble for Off the Trail_ _soon...and, just maybe, we'll soon have the first episode of my upcoming story, The Night Prowler. Thanks for reading!_


	19. Chapter 6: Part II

_A/N: Hello, fellow Zootopians! It's been a challenging few weeks, but I have completed another chapter for your reading pleasure. Please let me know what you think of the time these two spend in Nick's apartment._

 _Extra-big thank you to **winerp** for his phenomenal beta-reading! He always goes above and beyond, and it's deeply appreciated._

 _Thank you to those of you who leave your thoughts in reviews, most recently **Omnitrix12, Combat Engineer, Berserker88, HawkTooth, car213, LanceJZ, chorpion** and **Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps.** I'm always grateful for everything you have to say!_

 _And thank you to all of you who read, fave, and follow. You are what makes this writing process so enjoyable :). Thank you._

 _Happy reading!_

 _Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

Nick had told her his place would put her slice of Zootopia to shame. She had doubted his take on the matter – after all, hyperboles and snark made up 9 out of 10 things that came out of the fox's mouth – but this time, he'd actually told the whole truth.

His building stood on historic property: the place where the first mayor of Zootopia handed out the first key to the city. History had lost the name of the recipient, though common lore in these parts said that it had been a fox who had established the help center for single mothers that still operated twelve blocks away. _Fitting for Nick_ , Judy thought as she ascended one flight of stairs to Nick's second-floor apartment.

He must have discovered a good deal on it because this area could get pricey. He still filed his own tax forms, and even after peeking over his shoulder a few times, Judy was undeniably curious as to how much income he declared. To cover rent and utilities here…his remaining funds from his time on the streets must not have been too shabby.

As she neared his door, she couldn't help her laugh as she noticed the rough brushstrokes of russet pain visible on the solid hunk of cedar and his name plastered across the frame to ensure everyone knew it was his. She was excited to finally be standing at the threshold…and slightly saddened that they wouldn't be able to stay as long as she would have liked.

In the excitement of the day, Judy had almost forgotten the waiting invitation from Izabella Lobos for dinner. After her visit with sweet little Martin and his loving mother, time had flown by at breakneck pace, and Nick and Judy would be expected at the Lobos residence later this evening. Sly as he might be, this turn of events probably scuttled some of Nick's plans for his visit to his _oh so glorious_ apartment. Time would be of the essence, and she was curious how he would approach having her all alone for a few precious hours.

He had left the door unlocked, and as she let herself in, mountains of utter garbage greeted the houseguest. Strewn about were old takeout wrappers and boxes, wads of crumpled clothing (though Nick's police uniform was hanging on the back of the door, neatly pressed), and all manner of debris generated by a bachelor. She stepped lightly around a half dozen soda cans that were leaking something that hinted of molasses and shuffled across the tiled floor to reach a velvety couch.

"Hang on…just a minute…" arose Nick's muffled cries. He was somewhere deeper in his lair – likely the bathroom – and Judy could make out enough of his instructions telling her to sit down on the couch and relax. She did one of those things and ran her slightly jittery paw along the side of the couch. Back in Bunnyburrow, Judy would drag her paw across the tops of swaying autumn wild grass, catching the smoothness of the blades just before they dried up and snapped apart. Though the air in Nick's place was a tad more fetid than her home's, Judy allowed herself to sink into the cushion and her memory.

It had been an exhausting day. After spending time with Martin — and trying a few more times to apologize to Nick, only to be thwarted by his grin — they had made eight campaign stops. Her Mom's eye had been keen, approving the right color combination for Judy's attire today. It instilled a confidence in her as she spoke to a variety of mammals, most of whom at least tolerated a prolonged discussion on opportunity in their city. Nick had stood dutifully beside her, snapping in situ photos for the website and managing the questions that came flying at Judy from curious mammals (of which there were plenty today). All told, Judy beamed with a sense of accomplishment when Nick dropped her off back at her apartment to grab a dainty purse with a few accoutrements – and an hour of sleep – before this evening's affair. She had giggled when Nick mentioned how bright her eyes would get when she was so happy as she closed the cruiser door; on her way over to his place, which was significantly closer to the Lobos estate than hers, she hoped he'd say something like that again.

They still hadn't talked about their time in Judy's apartment, and while waiting for Nick, she thought about the way his snout wiggled when he had watched her beam. Just the soft crinkling of it told Judy a lot about the feelings he had to be wrestling with. She knew – she could sense it – something smoldered within Nick Wilde. She could be a patient bunny when she wanted to be, and letting the embers ignite on their own seemed prudent. But…she was also quite adept at fanning the flames.

Nick had indeed been in the bathroom: Judy heard the bolt click and the door creak open. She made a note to remind Nick to pick up some grease to oil up the hinges on what had to be a fifty-year-old pinewood door. His place did have an old-world charm, certainly – even if hidden beneath the thick layer of a bachelor's mess. But, Judy had witnessed enough quaintness back home, and modernity was in vogue these days for her.

That's likely what drew her attention to the massive plasma screen television screwed into the wall. Judy barely reached a quarter of the way up the screen, the jet-black surface reflecting the room through a dark filter. It was a new model, as Judy could tell from the sleek edges free from scratches or dings…and it was likely far above his police pay grade to afford.

Immediately, her suspicions surfaced in a slight grimace when her partner walked through the entryway. "Where did you get this thing, Nick?"

He recoiled – oh-so-subtly, but still visible – when Judy allowed the frown to deepen the lines in her face. With aplomb that had been garnered through years of quick thinking, he regained control, and his response slid out with an enviable smoothness. "Oh…around."

For most mammals, that would be enough to give up, the interest in an actual answer waning fast. But Judy was more adamant, and she possessed a surefire way to pull the truth from her partner. "Nicholas Pib—"

"Fine, fine," he relented while the strands of fur on his tail went rigid. "I know a guy who has good leads on cheap TVs. He found me an excellent choice to decorate my humble abode."

"Good leads, eh?"

"Oh, Carrots, _must_ you always be so…critical?"

"With you? _Always_."

Their shared laugh hung in the slightly dusty apartment air while Nick took his seat next to Judy, who tucked away her purse between the side of the couch and a pair of khaki pants. He left a forelimb's width between them, not unfriendly, but not closer. He seemed cordial, like any decent host would be.

"Nice place, Nick." She thought she could stop there, but her mouth had other plans. "Maybe you should keep it cleaner, though."

"So _critical_ , Fluff…" Nick grumbled as he tossed aside an undershirt that had been draped over the back of the couch. "But hey, we've been busy."

"Mhm." Judy's polished countertop sparkled in the noonday sun, even with her campaign stops slowing down her tidying efforts. But, Nick had been busy, of that she had no doubt. And it appeared like he had even tried to pick up the place, as Judy spied the trash can in the corner overflowing with emptied cricket burger packages and crushed paper cups lined with the brown stains of his morning coffee. She wiggled when she saw his thoughtfulness manifest.

"Well now, aren't you happy?" Nick's snarky comment brought her back to him. In stark contrast to her professional blazer was his floral shirt, half-tucked and slightly askew. He had missed a button, which exposed a tuft of cream-colored fur on his chest that Judy hadn't seen before, the wispy hairs reminding her of a cloud floating in an evening Bunnyburrow sky. She considered correcting his error, but she stared at the cloud on his chest for a few moments too long.

"Whoops, good catch there, Carrots." She almost shouted out her displeasure as Nick covered up the tuft with the pale green of his shirt. His smirk stayed put, but her eyes had trouble keeping focus on it, lost without the Bunnyburrow sky painted on his chest.

She studied the ridge running along the inside of her paw while she asked, "Well, Nick…you know we have dinner this evening with the Lobos couple, right?"

"I recall you _mentioning_ that to me." A couple hairs still poked out from the top of his shirt, and they swayed with the motion of his deep breaths. "I'll put on something _decent_ if I must."

She considered saying more on that particular subject, but she stopped herself as an odd scent tickled her nose. It distracted her from answering Nick in time.

"But even keeping in mind the prospect of dining with Arturo and Izabella shortly, I think it's a perfect time for a snack." Nick hadn't truly settled into the couch, so it was easy for him to hop out and step gingerly through the minefield of trash to reach the kitchen. Judy struggled to free herself before bowling right through it all to join him.

He maintained a simple kitchen: basic appliances, a small serving table, nothing out of the ordinary. Upon entering, though, she finally recognized an unforgettable scent and stuck out her tongue. "Gah…did you make cricket burgers or something?"

"What, _me_?" he said as he pulled a platter of steaming cricket burgers out of the microwave. "Never. I…oh, what have we here? Must be some mistake, hmph. Too bad, guess we'll have to eat them."

Of all the nauseating scents to have assailed Judy's twitchy nose over the years, none came close to the horrid stench of a microwavable cricket burger. The fresh patties sizzling on an open grill were bad enough, but whatever additives lay within the packaged monstrosities did something unspeakable to them. Judy could still imagine the pungent waves of stink that followed Bunnyburrow breezes during the fertilizing season, and these burgers were etched into the same vein of frightening memory.

She gagged as Nick popped one in his mouth and chewed delicately. "…mmm, just like Mom used to make."

She had arrived at Nick's apartment with a growing appetite, but that fled as Nick scarfed down two more patties. With her paws holding onto her belly, she did her best to talk through rising bile. "I'll pass… _urk_ …thanks."

"Oh, that's a shame. Guess I'll give this carrot casserole to someone else then…." Underneath the waves of cricket burger scent hid the alluring profile of Adeline's carrot casserole. Nick produced a plate with a cleanly sliced section of casserole from behind his microwave. With trepidation, her appetite crept back, and her nose twitched as it gathered as much of the aroma of spices as it could.

A battle raged in her stomach, and while Nick stood still with an outstretched plate in his paw, hunger won the day. With speed impressive even for a bunny, she snatched the plate and scampered back to the couch, escaping the clingy stench of cricket burgers. It was the cooking process that brought out the stink; when Nick followed her with his platter in tow, the burgers weren't nearly as potent.

Oddly, as they devoured their respective snacks, Nick didn't turn on the big fancy TV. Instead, he kicked back, draping one leg over the edge of the cushion and stretching the other toward his companion. Were he two inches taller, his foot would be tapping on Judy's thigh as it swayed to the beat of a song in Nick's head. He watched as she deliberately squished the top layer of the casserole, whose perfectly seasoned innards spilled all over the plate. For some reason, that made Nick laugh…. _really_ laugh.

"What's so funny?" Judy squinted at the fox who nearly rolled off the couch as he doubled over in his fit of mirth.

Once he composed himself, wiping away a joyful tear or two, he said, "The way you play with your food, Carrots. It's like…hah, how do I phrase this delicately? Ah, like a five-year-old learning how to use a fork."

She was appalled. "Don't you say that!" It wasn't Nick fault, though some of his happiness receded at her outburst. No, history was to blame for her darkening. "Do you know how many brothers and sisters I had to train to do that?"

Judy massaged her paw as she unlocked memories of those experiences. How many silvery tines had been shoved with reckless abandon into her soft palm when she tried to reorganize how many dozens of plates? How many butter knives had sawed at her forelimbs as she failed to instruct her siblings on proper etiquette? How many spoons…no, she wouldn't relive the Night of One Hundred Spoons.

With indescribable smoothness, Nick's paw slid on top of hers, and her terror at the memory of the spoon army vanished. She let his warmth infiltrate her coat and splash across her skin. He was no longer splayed all over the couch, now tucking in his feet and leaning into Judy. He sat with her for a few seconds, no other sounds in the air, before he spoke with a soft voice. "A traumatic experience, to be sure…." Judy held onto this picture of Nick as he retracted his paw…and his grin took its place. "For _them_."

She didn't mean to slap him as hard as she did. Her paw targeted his shoulder (no sense in trying to slap the grin off his face; that was permanently etched in there), and the sound of connection and his subsequent yelp ricocheted off the plasma screen and bounced around in the kitchen. In all fairness, she did gasp, and an apology fell from her lips.

"Ooh, sorry, Nick…but I'm still _mad_ , don't you forget that!" Honestly, she wasn't all that upset — much time had passed since her body had been abused by cutlery. Part of her liked seeing Nick flustered, as she had grown so accustomed to his slick composure that any inkling of confusion brought a surprising smile to her face. He had his way of picking on her; it seemed appropriate to discover her own.

His paw nursed his shoulder as he set down his cleaned platter on the floor. "Well, my dear partner, I'm afraid you won't be any happier once you see what's in the files I snagged. I suppose we should just get to looking then, yeah?"

The quivering in Judy's paw arose not from her anger — what little she had settled hastily — but from a craving for Nick to touch her again. Really, she would have been perfectly content to let the world fall away, to sit on this couch and stare at him, studying every strand of fur and every barely perceptible movement he made. Perhaps when the world settled down and she and he could think properly again, she would suggest it. But, for now, the detective in her had been starving and had its own cravings to sate.

"Okay."

"Splendid. You wait here, and I'll go fetch a few things." The couch shuddered as Nick tumbled off the cushion and slipped through the only other door in the apartment. Process of elimination told Judy that behind that door lay his bedroom (her detective spirit retained a speck of life, it seemed). Curiosity naturally surged forth, and her feet buzzed as they begged to step through the minefield of dirty clothes and pizza boxes and peek inside. And with the quivering in her paw edging up on uncontrollable, she needed something to resolve it.

She planted one foot on the carpet before Nick tossed open the door, lugging behind him a black garbage bag (the same brand Dad used when raking up the mountain of leaves her trees at home dropped in autumn) with a few manila pieces poking out of rapidly expanding holes in the plastic. He grunted as he dragged it. "For a guy no one knew anything about, he sure had a _lot_ of stuff."

He reached Judy breathlessly and rested for a moment before flipping over the bag and spilling the contents onto a clean-ish patch of carpet. Judy scooted back into the crux of the armrest as she surveyed Nick's haul.

"Wha…Nick, where do we _start_?" Even for an experienced bunny, the reams of paper and random baubles that composed Kyle Mansoa's "personal effects" were overwhelming. A bit of her recognized that the lack of order was bothering her most of all (her side of their shared desk at the precinct _was_ the neater of the two). And for a case many claimed was closed, the number of tips and leads seemed to have tripled since Judy and Nick had last sorted through the list. Every single one had been meticulously written down and then chucked into the trash, where Nick had obviously saved them from an early demise.

"Yeah, don't mind the dirt and grime on the papers too much. I plucked a few from the cans before they went to the shredder. Nothing gross, unless Clawhauser started tossing in old donuts."

Though her initial shock had subsided, Judy didn't snicker at Nick's joke, as she was now enthralled with the mess. She had abandoned the couch and was shuffling around pages of nearly identical forms and twiddling with some of Mansoa's items: a chain of paper clips, an old receipt from Jumbeaux's ice cream shop, and a tiny woven figurine shaped like a bandicoot, among _many_ other pieces. "And these personal effects?"

His feet shifted – she heard the crinkling of something underfoot – and Nick took on a mildly defensive tone. "They…uh, were taking up a lot of space in the evidence locker. So, I, um, freed them."

The interruptions in his speech betrayed his inventiveness. Judy stopped her search long enough to glare at him. " _Freed_ them?"

He waved his paw, dismissing her withering gaze. "They were scheduled for destruction tomorrow anyway. I just found them a better home."

As unorthodox as his methodology was, it made enough sense for Judy to give back into her unquenchable curiosity, and she dove into the pile while Nick paced around the perimeter. Remnants of the life of Kyle Mansoa slipped through her paws as she clawed through the mess. Between the refuse that must have held sentimental value in the eyes of the hyena, Judy searched for anything germane to the case.

Nick provided thoughtful commentary from the sidelines. "Careful there, Candidate Hopps. Don't go and get yourself a paper cut – we need you out there shaking paws, not nursing wounds."

His _kind_ spirit invigorated Judy…to kick up some loose leafs and growl at Nick. "How about _you_ get in here and help me?"

His grin was on the verge of appearing (the wrinkles in his snout were a dead giveaway), but Judy's stare won out, and soon, Nick was on all-fours, rooting through the piles. Keeping the peace this evening now seemed unusually paramount for Nick. It was a sentiment that would require closer study once they were done combing through the wreckage of Mansoa's life.

And they combed for a long while. During the course of it, Nick produced a data drive and plugged it into his TV. Some grainy videos of what could have been a hyena walking down the street played on a loop, as did a select few calls from tipsters who had proven mildly credible. She kept her ears trained on the TV's speakers to catch every intonation of the breathy callers and the static crackling in the background.

After skipping out on Bogo's meeting about the new recording system, she had begged about half the force for notes on it. Finally, the ever-trustworthy Benjamin Clawhauser had delivered…in exchange for a box of the scrumptious and pricey chocolate-cream éclairs from the mom-and-pop bakery eight blocks from the precinct. Flipping through Clawhauser's lightly wrinkled packet, Judy learned this system, installed in the office phones of ZPD's finest, would trigger when an interoffice call occurred (typically the epitome of tedium, so why the public would want to hear them, Judy had no clue) or when someone called an emergency line. Certain other lines – like the phone number for tips about Mansoa – could also be included at will. She had gotten lost in the technical notes, which also bore a smudge from something with sprinkles on it, so the algorithm that sorted and loaded these for review still eluded her. Regardless, as she listened to the product of the state-of-the-art policing solution now playing on TV, it sounded like ZPD had gotten the back-alley deal, like one of Weaselton's bootleg movies.

"Hmm, y'know, I couldn't even tell you what Mansoa _sounds_ like," Nick said as he stared at the oscillations of the audio recording looping on the TV with focus chiseled on his face. It was mildly inspiring, seeing him so directed — like how he looked on the campaign trail as he protected Judy from mobs of reporters.

She took a moment to relish this view of Nick before she replied, "Yeah, me neither." Despite their research, they had come up empty with the digital records. Truly, they were lucky to have even a photograph of Kyle. The pile could maybe provide a precious nugget of information, something they had been hoping for since the case landed in Judy's paw. And so, as the sun set and night encroached on this block of Zootopia, they went back to the shapeless amalgam of paper and cardboard.

The smell of the cricket burgers had finally dissipated by the time they had sorted out the contents of Nick's garbage bag. In neatly and orderly stacks were tip forms sorted by likelihood of an actual sighting, the business cards from Mansoa's folio, a miscellany of all sorts, and a few trinkets that would seem out of place even as _miscellany_.

"… _aaand_ I've got nothing." Nick shrugged as he stepped back from their handiwork, still licking his chops from his snack (cricket burgers, especially from a microwave, could be exceedingly oily).

"Yep." They had taken turns with each other's piles, reading and collating and doing all kinds of detective-like work. Yet, after all their toiling, they had nothing new, and that frustrated Judy beyond what words could express. Tired bodies plopped back onto the couch, limbs sagging and sinking into the cushions.

Nick didn't wait too long before he started theorizing. "Whelp, maybe we really _did_ do all that we could."

His words were probably meant to be more shocking than she actually felt them to be. Judy's head rolled lazily toward him. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe this is just how it happened. Nothing else going on, just…a mammal who wanted to disappear."

Certainly, Judy had considered that possibility. It would have been the simplest solution, and in most instances, the best one. Yet, the details of this case nagged her like nothing had before. She could not accept such a simple solution without a tangible reason. "But _why_ _?_ Even if that's true – and I'm still not convinced – why would he go through the trouble?"

"…dunno, Carrots." Nick's fluttering eyelids were toying with the concept of sleep. Now that they had concluded their work, Judy finally noticed how incredibly tired he appeared. A nocturnal mammal at heart, Nick's punishing day-and-night schedule was probably exacting its toll. She observed the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest and hoped for another peek at that tuft of white fur. He was slowing, relaxing — not in the manner of his usual naps, either. This couch was perpetrating some special form of sleep that made Nick's lip curl in adorable fashion. The cushions could be unspeakably comfortable given the right level of exhaustion…which Judy was discovering alongside Nick.

They had neared the very edge of falling asleep together, with a dream of planting giant carrots entering Judy's mind, when Nick shot up. The jarring motions that rattled the couch brought Judy back from the brink, too. "Hey, Carrots. What's that?"

"Where?" Judy didn't see anything, but that may have been because her eyes were a hair's breadth away from being sealed shut.

"Over there, by your foot."

Her foot moved on its own and slid on the glossy coating of whatever it was. With a slowness reserved for crack-of-dawn carrot planting on the farm, she extended her forelimb and came back with a business card. She twirled it around in her paw and put together its source. "Oh! It's for some fancy restaurant in the financial district…and there's something else on it."

Scrawled in black pen below the restaurant's address was "nocturnia," along with a date and time. Her mind still trapped in the sweet embrace of somnolence, she required a minute to realize that the scribbled appointment was half past midnight this evening.

"Hmm, _nocturnia_ ," Nick hummed as he read over her shoulder. He exhaled while he thought, and his snout was positioned just right so that his warm breath cascaded down her ear. She shivered – not enough for Nick to notice, but sufficient to almost lose her grip on the card. "Wonder what that means…" he said as Judy regained control.

Her paw was quivering…but now it was her detective instinct that had taken over. In her paw lay the first real clue this case had revealed in a very long time. Sure, it wasn't much to go on, and the timing was truly atrocious. But Officer Judy Hopps would not be dissuaded from the course of action now forming in her mind. "I don't know…but we should find out."

For what it was worth, Nick attempted to look shocked. A hint of glee did shimmer through his eyes — pretty to look at, and very telling. "And miss our dinner date with Arturo and Izabella? For shame, Hopps."

Judy had already imagined the map of the city and was drawing routes to connect their evening plans. Her paw traced lines through the air. "We'll have _plenty_ of time. This restaurant is on their side of town. So, we'll go do the Lobos thing for a bit and then stop by this place on the way back."

Nick did not dispute the solidity of her plan. Really, there was something else churning in his mind, which came to light very quickly after Judy constructed her map. "You just really want to investigate something, don't'cha?"

She did – oh, _how she did_. And she was terrible at hiding that desire. Even someone who hadn't known her as long as Nick had would be hard-pressed to miss the utter joy bubbling inside her. The past few weeks had been rigorous and littered with disappointments and frustrations – much like the garbage strewn across Nick's floor. Now, like the overflowing trash can, Nick had tried to pick up as much as he could, which made her wiggle whenever she thought about it. But it had been a _lot_ of trash to pick up. Any prospect of a brilliant and shining patch in their grimy investigation and campaign would be wholly embraced.

And it was clear Nick shared in her excitement. He could barely contain himself, shifting around on the couch and peering over the edge into one of the piles of pages. That they could both experience this joy together was heartwarming. Her paw slid on its own over to Nick's, and when she reached him, he halted immediately.

Perhaps her mind still dallied in the dream with the giant carrots, but she easily let the world slip away. She was there, with Nick, and nothing and no one else. He turned to her and stopped breathing. Those eyes of his were maddening to peer into as she pulled together the beginnings of what she had wanted to say for so long. "Nick, I'd like to tell you—"

When it wanted to be, her phone could actually serve as a useful tool. Before entering his apartment, Judy suspected that she would completely space out on when she and Nick would need to leave to reach the Lobos residence. It would be a lengthy drive, and with traffic and road closures and every other minor problem she had uncovered in her planning process (before the addition of the fancy restaurant), she had guessed on their best time to leave. And, regrettably, her phone indicated with a standout buzzing pattern that departure was imminent.

Nick heard it vibrate through the couch – he couldn't stop his ears from flitting toward the sound. She knew she was caught, and now, very much awake and with a sigh born from the incredible weariness of a fire burning through all its fuel, she withdrew her paw and rose from the couch. "Well, Nick, we need to go. You best put on your nice clothes."

He blinked – confused, it seemed, which Judy did relish, just a little bit. While she retrieved her purse from the side of the couch to go and freshen up in Nick's bathroom, he slithered off his cushion with the same exhaustion that plagued Judy. Perhaps he had been expecting her to say what was on her mind, something that he had probably deduced anyway. And sure enough, as he stepped over a crushed pizza box on his path toward his bedroom, he hung his snout right on the edge of Judy's ear; his whisper tickled. "You can tell me later, yeah?"

Her response arrived far too slowly, and Nick had escaped to his room before she could get out a word. Her paw played with the tip of her ear, which buzzed with the pressure and heat of Nick's whisper. Yes, she would tell him later…she would tell him _everything_ later. No interruptions, no fancy dinners, just the two of them, alone and together.

For now, she would content herself with listening in on Nick's puttering as he debated with the mirror the merits of his outfit. Without him to observe, Judy's eyes fell to the TV screen, which was still playing the looping and grainy video of a hyena that was likely Kyle Mansoa. The creature seemed so downtrodden, hanging its head in a despair evident even through these fuzzy pixels. She had worn that look far too often these days…and she intended to change that.

"We'll get the ones who did this to you, Kyle. I promise."

* * *

 _Ah, Judy's back in the game! Good to see. Hope you enjoyed! ~ Euphonemes_


	20. Chapter 6: Part III

**_A/N:_** _Alright my dear readers, I have another Part ready to go for your viewing pleasure! It was a little stressful, but I liked the challenge of the exchanges here. I hope you enjoy the outcome._

 _A huge thank you to **winerp** and **TheCatweazle** for their incredible work beta-reading this piece. They both bring such wonderful new ideas to the table, and it's my privilege to work with such excellent talent. Thanks, guys!_

 _Also, a special thank you to **SliferFox** and **pretty-ok** for their help with the section on wedding bands and scent markings. It's a smaller part of this piece, but it illustrates an important component of the relationship between Arturo and Izabella. Thanks to both of you for sharing your feedback on that!_

 _Thanks to those of you who have reviewed recently, including **chorpion, Berserker88, HawkTooth, Omnitrix 12, JustNibblin,** and **Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps.** As always, I appreciate you sharing your fantastic thoughts and ideas!_

 _And thank you to all of you who read, fave and follow. I'm glad to have you join me on this journey._

 _A final note: Run will also now be carried on Archive of Our Own (AO3). I've been trickling out updates on the site and will soon have that version caught up with what we have here._

 _Happy reading ~ Euphonemes_

* * *

 _Run_

He very nearly missed the turn. Granted, in the dark, it was hard to see the narrow entryway to the Lobos estate. But, Judy had planned ahead, memorizing the layout of this area before setting foot in the car. Her quick shout and wagging paw corrected her partner's error before they had to circle the block using one-way streets.

Ever since he had first taken the wheel as her partner, Nick had bragged about being a "better driver" than Judy. His _urban skills_ gave him a superior sense of the road, or so he claimed. For the most part, it had held true, and Nick could cleanly navigate their cruiser around Zootopia. But now, finally, his bluster had caught up to him. His tail hung sheepishly over the edge of the seat as the cruiser, with tires squealing as they clung desperately to the pavement, swung into a short driveway.

"Thanks for the direction, Carrots." He sounded sincere enough, though his muted tone betrayed his frustration at being wrong.

Judy plastered on a grin that would normally make Nick proud. "Of course, my _dear_ partner." So rare were these moments, and Judy intended to enjoy every delicious morsel of it. Strangely, Nick let her have it, staying completely silent as the cruiser meandered with the curving driveway up to a grand porch that led into a stately manor – not overbearing, but indicative of a healthy income stream. Through wide bay windows shone the warm light of old incandescent bulbs, fit for the ornate chandelier that glinted behind the glass. Barely able to hear the sound of Nick exiting the cruiser, Judy felt herself being mesmerized by the swaying of those hanging crystal teardrops. She practically glued her face to the cruiser window before Nick popped her door open. His quick paw kept her from tumbling into the gravel parking lot.

Most of her body had made it past Nick — his paw ended up latching onto the tail of her jacket, situated right above her actual tail. Izabella had not provided guidance on expected dinner attire, and Mom had said that Judy had looked "just swell" in her campaigning gear. Professional but not ostentatious seemed the most appropriate choice. When Nick let go, she brushed off her jacket, wiggled her tail, and straightened out everything else.

Before she could thank him, he must have felt compelled to spoil a perfectly good opportunity to receive a compliment. "I know, _pretty lights_. Get it out of your system now, Carrots. You need to stay sharp in there."

She pouted, even though Nick was right. Given the strange power that Izabella wielded, Judy would need to stay clearheaded during any conversation over dinner (and beyond). Nick obviously thought little of Arturo and Izabella, and she knew he'd naturally be wary…which could also turn him into off-putting company. Together, they would have to discover the perfect balance between friendly and cautious.

Judy rattled this around her brain as she and Nick ascended shallow steps and rang a gaudy doorbell – the chorale of bells pealed too flatly for Judy's taste. She watched Nick use one paw to play with the lapels of his black jacket and fiddle with a loose button on his surprisingly crisp white shirt (no tie this time around). He fidgeted with a curious energy, probably more ruffled about this upcoming dinner date than he had expected to be. Her paw slid naturally into his calm one, and for a moment, his fidgeting vanished.

And this is how Izabella Lobos found the two of them when she opened the door. To be honest, Judy had expected a butler or handymammal. She found it inconceivable, really, that _only_ the Lobos couple would live in this impressively huge manor that could fit the entire Hopps clan plus a hundred more bunnies. Yet, as she stood in her brilliant sapphire gown, Izabella's eyes lit up as they found their way to Judy clutching Nick's paw. Both rabbit and fox started fidgeting.

"Ah, the _partners_ are here, excellent! Come in, come in. Arturo, my dear…Arturo? Is dinner ready?" She spoke quickly while abandoning Nick and Judy in a lovely foyer. "My apologies, I must hunt down my husband!"

"Okay, we'll be right…here…" Judy shouted into thin air. While Izabella sought out her partner, Judy realized she was still holding onto hers. Her paw did not leave as easily as it had entered, and Nick went right back to toying with his jacket once she let go.

"Are you okay, Nick?"

"Oh, fine, Carrots. I just _adore_ being in the wolf's den…never thought I'd mean that _literally_ , either."

Truly, she did share Nick's skittishness. She took little comfort in the pleasant vibe of the foyer. Framed portraits of a happy couple gazed down at the two small mammals awaiting their hosts. Even in photographs, Izabella seemed to shine with an enviable brilliance, like she wore the sun as a brooch on her dress. Judy tugged at her lapel, envisioning how she would look with a Bunnyburrow sunset pinned to her jacket, before Izabella and Arturo came out from the hallway.

"Ah, Miss Hopps! And Mister Wilde – a pleasure to see you both!" Even in his home, Arturo maintained the astute air about him. His black turtleneck, bordered by his tweed jacket, wrinkled slightly as he strode with conviction. He extended a congenial paw, which Judy embraced as she offered a wordless nod in reply.

"Likewise…" Nick mumbled as he took his turn with Arturo's paw. Judy cracked a smirk at Nick's semblance of politeness. Truth be told, she had expected a bitter partner for this evening's affair. Judy was going to struggle with maintaining her friendly composure, too, but Nick's disdain had been plain since he first met their hosts. Perhaps, though, Nick could play along tonight. Her chest warmed at the thought.

"Well, now, we can't leave you here in this foyer. Please, let's head to the kitchen. We have prepared some hors d'oeuvres for you."

"Secret family recipe," Izabella quipped as she led the party into a fantastic kitchen. Judy admirably held in her gasp at the stainless steel appliances, the glittering chandelier overhead, and the marble kitchen island that sat in the center of cedar flooring. On top of the marble rested three trays of snacks whose scents mingled together to produce a mouthwatering combination.

She meant to stop and ask the Lobos couple about their dishes, but Nick broke rank and marched straight up to the island. His sighs of pleasure as he bit into a piece from each tray were not obtrusive – in fact, they were actually gracious. "Did you make these, Izabella? They're _delicious_."

This side of Nick puzzled Judy, though she quickly hid her rising eyebrow from the view of Arturo and Izabella. Clearly, Nick had some sort of endgame in mind. It wasn't that this "pleasant company" version of Nick was a _bad thing_ , just unplanned for. No matter what churned through his mind, however, Judy would still enjoy his warm spirit as long as it lasted.

"Indeed, Nicholas. My grandmother's blend of spices, that's what makes it so special," she said with a soft wink. Nick chuckled as he devoured another few pieces before offering the platters to Judy. Perhaps Nick hadn't been acting, as Judy released the same sigh when she bit into them.

"If you think that to be good, Miss Hopps, just wait until dinner," Arturo said while wrapping a paw around Izabella's waist. Judy watched as Izabella rolled into it, letting her paw drift up the threads of his tweed jacket as she smiled at something unspoken. Were they not locked in a heated campaign – and under suspicion for doing something with Kyle Mansoa – Judy could almost imagine being friends with the Lobos couple. Their love seemed touchingly genuine, like they enjoyed the company of each other more than anything else in the world. A sweetness pervaded the air in this home, very different from the sour campaign trail where she usually confronted these two.

Nick kept vigil over the appetizers, but she caught the glance he gave every so often. Judy figured that Nick was enjoying this moment, too. Many surprises still awaited, Judy felt sure of that. But, this special moment between two wolves could prove to be the biggest surprise of them all.

Judy decided to try some polite conversation to further pry open these good relations. "So, how did you two meet?"

"Ah, my dear, you tell this story _far_ more eloquently than I do." Arturo gently nuzzled his wife's ear, and she tapped his chest while tittering softly.

"Do you even remember it, darling?" she teased before turning her attention to Nick and Judy. "An economics conference, set in the heart of our city. I had finished a presentation on the provision of public dollars for specialized art projects – I was against the notion and wrote a paper about it. Arturo here had just begun his work preserving historic buildings in Zootopia and had for some reason wandered into my speech."

"I prefer to call it _fate_ as opposed to wandering."

She laughed – a beautiful and gentle sound. "Whatever you care to call it, I remember how fast he stood up once my speech ended, and he opened his volley of questions. What little audience I had left somewhere around his twelfth question, but we argued in that room long after that – and then at the dinner club on the top floor of the conference center. I loved his _fire_ , his passion, as he tried to explain the errors he perceived in my work. And we've been together ever since."

"I don't think I ever changed your position on that topic, did I?"

"I'm afraid not, darling. But you _did_ convince me of a few other important things." Izabella spun her wrist, and a gold band danced in the light of the chandelier. Oddly, Judy had never noticed the wedding band before. Whenever she was around Izabella, she tended to train her eyes on anything but the wolf. But away from the clamor of the public, Judy could watch with a twinkle in her eye as the band, with its intricate weaved pattern, slid along the wolf's wrist.

Judy had only ever heard of wedding bands in passing, as rabbits tended to stick to rings. But the band only represented a part of this union. Interspersed between the heady scents of appetizers floated the potent pheromones of a marking. Judy had gained a more appreciable understanding of marking once she moved to the city, with her nose twitching as couples buried deeply in love passed her by. Arturo and Izabella were clearly marked for one another, perhaps serving as the source for the tinge of sweetness in the air, their affection an almost cloying scent. It seemed appropriate for the Lobos couple.

As her comment formed in her mind, Judy was preemptively silenced by a low and powerful growl. She turned toward the island to see Nick clutching his stomach. The flash of surprise had long dissipated, and Nick smoothly delivered some repartee. "Well, now that you all know I'm hungry…can dinner be served?"

Izabella clearly showed her affinity for Nick every chance she could. Her sly wink would easily stand toe-to-toe with anything Nick could muster, and Judy twisted her head away from Arturo and Izabella in order to hide the furious eye twitch that manifested when Nick cracked his trademark smirk. "Of course, Nicholas. Shall we, my dear?"

"Oh, we shall!" With a slightly garish flourish of his paw, Arturo whisked away his wife on their journey through a formal sitting room and into the dining area. To match the floors, the cedar dinner table had been polished to a mirror finish. Judy adjusted the tip of her ear, as it appeared crooked from the table's view, and slid into a plush leatherine chair. With a few grating scratches, Nick scooted his chair closer to Judy. A pesky table leg kept him just out of reach of her paw. Her foot, however, could run itself along the seam of his slacks, which elicited a blink of surprise the first time she did it to him.

Steam curled away from the dishes that Arturo and Izabella unsheathed from silver domes. Judy first noticed the handmade cricket patties, smothered in some sort of golden sauce, the sweet smell of which reminded her of the first time she opened the door to Jumbeaux's shop. _A long way from the microwave_ , she almost told Nick, whose fork had already discovered the cricket specialty.

A patty, along with other delectable treats, were soon piled high on Judy's plate. She dug in with an avarice born from a long day on the campaign trail. They had not had much time to stop for meals, and Judy's snack supply had been nearly exhausted even before she started the day. She did her best to maintain her composure – Arturo and Izabella sliced slowly and delicately into their food – as she nearly shoveled into her mouth a lettuce-wrapped medley of shredded carrots, beets, rutabagas and a tangy brown sauce.

The length of the table had separated the diners, with Arturo and Izabella leaving at least two seats in the no-man's-land. It hadn't felt confrontational when they had sat down and had started devouring their dinners. But, as they neared completion — with only a few polite words exchanged in between bites — Judy sensed the tiniest of walls beginning to form.

Though, it appeared that Izabella was sensing something similar, and her paw shifted empty chairs away from the table as she moved closer. Soon, her glittering dress was practically filling Judy's vision. "So, Miss Hopps, I'm dying to know how you and Nicholas first found each other."

"Ah, that must be a fascinating story, indeed!" Arturo added as he joined his wife. She had gently rested her paw on the slick table, and her husband enshrouded it with his — just large enough to shield hers from view. His fur bristled slightly as he applied the smallest amount of pressure, which made Izabella smirk.

Judy dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin, which came away with leftovers of the tangy brown sauce. Careful study of the napkin bought her a few precious seconds to figure out how she should even begin to answer that question. Part of her felt compelled to tell the truth. She had practiced the whitewashed version on television programs and interviews:

 _We met in the course of the Night Howler case, and we got the chance to work together. It was a…rocky start, but we eventually became great partners._

But, an instinct buried within Judy screamed that the Lobos couple would see through that flimsy response. She was not eager to divulge the _whole_ truth, so she decided just a dab more would have to do.

"Well, I had just started investigating the Night Howler case and ran up on a bit of trouble. I needed help from someone who was more familiar with the streets of Zootopia. By happenstance, I had stumbled upon Nick in an ice cream shop, and after reconnecting with him, we got to work solving that case. Then, he chose to stick around and become a cop — just like his favorite partner."

She finished with a wink, which resurrected Izabella's beautiful laugh. "Oh, Nicholas, you've chosen a fine role model on your journey to the police department. But, of course, every story has two sides. How did you meet Judy, Nicholas?" The light from the chandelier bounced off the glittering sapphire sequins in her dress as she leaned toward Nick. Arturo's chair squeaked as he peeked over her shoulder, apparently equally curious about Nick's past.

Now, Nick had never demonstrated embarrassment about his history. The _creative_ ways he had made a living had been a part of who he was. Much had changed over time, and today, Judy would catch him now and again peering into the reflection of a mirror at the office, finagling the shiny badge into the exact right position while wearing a tender smile. He took great pride in his work these days.

But, the phantoms of his past had haunted him, even as he proved his mettle on the police beat and the campaign trail. Though no media institution had done any heavy digging into Nick's past (they were far too fascinated by Judy's foibles, it seemed), it was almost assured that the Lobos camp had torn apart the life of Nicholas Wilde. Fortunately, anything potentially scandalous arising from that search had not been deployed in this campaign, despite how close it was running.

Nick cleared his throat as Judy stared at one of Izabella's sequins. "Well, Izabella, I believe Judy covered just about all of it. Granted, she left out the rockier parts of a younger and more foolish Nick." He offered his own wink. "But after we solved that case together, something in me knew I had to follow in those big bunny footsteps. It was tough, sure, but she helped me be just a little bit better. So, she can be a pain about it sometimes, but most days, she _is_ my favorite partner."

Before they had sat down to dinner, Arturo had struck a match and lit a lily-white votive candle placed in the center of the table. Throughout the meal, it had flickered with the wind of their movements and the breath of their conversation. Perfectly spherical drops of wax had rolled down the sides, melting in a beautifully complex pattern of weaving and interlocking strands. When Nick spoke about her to the Lobos couple, she imagined her heart melting in that pattern.

Her foot ran delicately along the seam of his slacks — he was still too far away for her to grab his paw and hold tightly. But, she couldn't tell for sure if her foot or Izabella's cooing had Nick cracking his smirk.

"That is adorable, Nicholas. What a special connection you two share. It's no wonder why you and Miss Hopps always seem so comfortable around each other."

"To be frank, Miss Hopps, I had thought you and Mister Wilde were pandering to the crowds…." Izabella's free paw did its best to shush her husband. As Arturo playfully ducked her paw, he wore a smirk very similar to Nick's — some kind of tacit understanding exchanged between the two of them. And for once, Nick Wilde smiled in front of the Lobos couple.

So far, this evening had not proceeded as Judy had planned. Her carefully constructed conversational points and mental map of potential pitfalls disintegrated as she watched the Lobos couple continue joking with one another, doing their best to maintain the same composure that was hastily abandoning Judy. Her chair creaked as she leaned toward Nick, and her paws gripped the armrest as she readied to drag her seat across the floor, inch by inch, to reach her partner. Something was guiding her closer — Judy couldn't tell how much of it was the air in the room, the laughter shared between Arturo and Izabella, the delectable dinner, or the glint shining off of Nick's teeth as he smirked. Whatever stirred her spirit, she savored the feeling as her chair started its long sojourn.

She had made it a quarter of the way before the air cooled and Izabella spoke again. "You two are wonderful together. Oh, were we not preoccupied with this campaign business, perhaps we would be able to share more of these dinners together."

Finally, someone at the table had voiced the obvious point of contention. Tension immediately tightened the air. They had been proceeding for so long without talk of the election that it felt alien to introduce it while basking in this warm after-dinner joy.

Judy nodded, hoping this line of dialogue would perish in the silence as she relished the thought of letting go of her composure. Arturo did not share that sentiment. "Indeed, my dear. Our guests are outstanding company, and I hesitate to ruin the evening with talk of politics. Yet…my curiosity is unquenchable. How do you feel about this campaign, Miss Hopps? And same to you, Mister Wilde?"

Judy would have liked to keep the conversation jovial. She turned to her partner, whose smile had deadened. A tight-lipped Nick was rarely a good sign, and Judy's foot worked extra hard to try to calm him. With how busy he had been these past few weeks managing her campaign and dealing with the fallout from all manner of catastrophes (some of which may have been orchestrated by Arturo and Izabella), certain grievances _had_ to have emerged. Nicholas Wilde would not be one to miss out on using the stage when it was given to him.

"Fine," Nick began flatly. Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably while he took a long gulp from the glass of water situated by his cleaned plate. "I think the public has seen a clean, shiny campaign process. Nothing too bad has been leaked and plastered all over the news."

A light hum indicated that Izabella was considering Nick's words. " _Clean_ , a thought-provoking word choice. And you don't believe the behind-the-scenes campaign has followed suit?"

"I believe there are areas of improvement." Fifteen seconds of silence dragged on, all while Nick stared down Arturo and Izabella. Certainly, a lot of questions on the Lobos couple had to be buzzing around his brain — Judy was probably mulling over the same ones. His restraint, however, flummoxed her.

Rare were the opportunities when Nick could directly interrogate Arturo and Izabella. And in the privacy of the Lobos' own home, away from other prying eyes and eavesdropping ears, they could get some real answers…or, at least answers closer to the truth. Yet, Nick did not push. He was lying back in wait, it seemed, holding on for something….

She required the full fifteen seconds to realize what Nick was up to. _Sly fox_ _._ She had to be careful not to betray her understanding to Arturo and Izabella, so she hid the flash of a smile behind her paw. Quickly, Judy donned her detective hat and, realizing she had to continue misleading the Lobos couple, picked up where Nick left off.

"Yes, areas of improvement. For one, I think there's a lot to be said for follow-through."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. We've been to several places on the trail that would appreciate some follow-through. Places and mammals that have been waiting for help for a _very_ long time."

Arturo chuckled while drawing Izabella closer to him. The shifting sequins in her dress cast a pale sapphire shadow across the table. "Ah, yes, opportunity. You have made that call quite public, Miss Hopps."

"I have, and with good reason. It's needed, both in the public eye and behind-the-scenes."

Arturo's free paw tapped rhythmically on the table, and his snout crinkled ever so slightly. Both he and Nick shared this sign of thought. "Alright then. Why opportunity, Miss Hopps?"

Automatically, she switched into campaign mode — she had internalized her strategies over the dozens upon dozens of speeches she had delivered. "Well, in my plan, I—"

With a grand wave, Arturo's paw went into the air. "No, no. Keep policy out of this. I want you to tell me _why_ , Miss Hopps."

Judy stiffened at the interruption. She gave Arturo the opportunity to expand his query, but as five seconds of nothing became ten, she did the prodding herself. "What do you mean, _why_?"

"I mean…why should we help these mammals? Why is it the city's mandate to fix these issues? Or, rather, _your_ mandate, should you claim victory?"

The answer seemed obvious, and though she suspected he was leading her into a trap, she fell right into it. "Because it's the _right thing_ to do!"

"Says who? You?"

Now it was Nick's foot that ran along the seam of her pants leg. Acclimating to a professional suit had been challenging (even after wearing the ZPD uniform nearly every day for a year). She felt that the suit's fabric didn't allow her legs to breathe, and her fur would slicken by the conclusion of a hard-fought day on the trail. Nick copying her move brought more heat into the mix, and had his touch not been such a welcomed feeling, she would have swiftly ended it with a kick.

"Yes. Alleviating suffering, opening the doors to help all mammals, predator and prey alike, I think these are the _purposes_ of City Hall. It's why we should do it, Mister Lobos. I can't imagine another way."

"But you cannot help all mammals, Miss Hopps. It's not possible. So who decides who gets the help? Would you be ready to be the arbiter of opportunity?"

He raised a difficult question. Judy let her gaze wander along Arturo's tweed jacket, down and across the table, and over to Nick, whose eyes were widening in the way they did when he expected her to tear someone apart. Nick had been around her long enough to learn those moments when Judy was liable to explode. But, she took a cue from her partner this evening and withheld her fierier side…or at least redirected that fire toward something more constructive. "And what about you, Mister Lobos? Would you rather give up completely? Make no choices at all?"

Interestingly enough, Nick chose this point to reinsert himself into the discussion. That may have been the result of the barely perceptible growl escaping from the corner of Arturo's mouth. She had been chipping away at his shiny veneer and would soon engage him in a heated debate. Part of Judy wondered if this was the kind of debate that Izabella and Arturo had conducted when they first met in that lecture hall.

"Okay, I think we've hit our limit on politics for the evening, yeah?" He offered his smile, though it took until the votive candle in the center of the table snuffed itself out before the tension filling the room receded.

At first, Judy was incensed that Nick stopped the conversation right when it was approaching its meatiest point. A _real_ dialogue would be such a joy for Judy. But, as the wax from the votive candle cooled, so did Judy's temper. Logic told her that Nick was trying to protect her, since the last time she spoke emotionally with either Lobos, she had nearly divulged too much information about her campaign. Perhaps Nick figured that this discussion would likely end up being fruitless, and therefore not worth the chance. Or, maybe Nick really was tired of politics and wanted to move on. Either way, she made a note to ask him later, then she sat back in her chair and let the tiniest of grimaces rest on her face.

"Yes, quite." Three short buzzes emanated from Arturo's pocket, and he pulled out his sleek phone. "Ah, and time has fled from us. I'm afraid I must prepare for a late-night meeting. The city never sleeps, and neither can its mayor."

 _Emergency manager_ , Judy readied to say before actually biting her tongue.

"Already? Oh, my dear husband, always so busy…and I even had dessert prepared, with those special blueberries you like so much…."

Nick was out of his seat in two seconds flat. The blueberry addict stood tall and proud. "I'll take some of that home with me, Izabella. I can help pack it up if you'd like." It was almost hard to hear him over the sound of his tail swishing madly. Leaving Judy alone with Arturo seemed like a strange ploy, but Nick already had one foot tapping as it begged to be unleashed and head toward the blueberry prize in the kitchen.

"Thank you, Nicholas. So thoughtful of you."

As they left to prepare to-go desserts, Arturo also rose from his seat. In the warmer and more inviting air of earlier, Judy had not noticed how tall — and imposing — Arturo Lobos could be. As he stood up, paws planted on the table, she suddenly felt much smaller than usual, trying to shrink away from the wolf.

"Well, now…all of this will be over soon, Miss Hopps, one way or another." He leaned closer, his hot breath fogging the mirror finish of the table. Judy stared at his flaring nostrils. "No matter the outcome, know that I do respect you…even if we disagree on so much." He attempted to be cordial, but a new hint of malice lingered bitterly within his words — so unlike the sophisticated urbanite she had met at City Hall.

And that change in his demeanor told her plenty. Over her lifetime, many mammals had tried to intimidate Judy Hopps; few, if any, had succeeded. And Arturo Lobos, the wolf whose paw was now tapping nervously on the dinner table in his own home, would not be one of them. "Thank you, Mister Lobos. I look forward to seeing how this ends as well."

More — so much more— could have been said, but Nick returned to reclaim his partner and direct her toward the door. With impressive speed, Arturo regained his pleasant aura, planting a grin on his face as he joined Izabella in escorting out their guests. Judy snagged a last look at one of the portraits of the happy couple. Izabella still glowed like the sun, but a cloud had moved in to cover it — the colors were muted, their hues weakened. While she stared at the picture and let Nick's paw push her from the small of her back, Judy realized how very glad she was that she and Nick were not at all like Arturo and Izabella Lobos.

"Well, thank you for the invitation, Izabella," Nick almost shouted over his shoulder — Judy still wasn't ready to talk. "It was a pleasure."

"The pleasure was ours, Nicholas. You and Miss Hopps take care."

The shallow steps squeaked as Nick practically dragged Judy toward the cruiser. She hadn't been intimidated, but she _was_ seething at Arturo's weak attempt. It required a few deep breaths and Nick's paw leaving her back and massaging her shoulder (with a practiced paw, it seemed — she wondered who taught him those techniques) before she could relax enough to hear him speak.

"Well, Carrots, we flustered him, I think. It's been a while since I've been kicked out of anywhere."

Her voice quavered slightly as the flash of anger from inside took its time to cool. "Very smooth, Mister Wilde. But what did that accomplish?"

He popped open the back seat and gently laid down his to-go bag. Judy's nose determined it to be a fresh-from-the-oven blueberry scone, a scent she must have missed earlier in the wonderfully tasty collection of appetizers. "In there? Oh, that was just some fun for me." He cracked his smirk while Judy grimaced.

"I thought you wanted to find out if he had a breaking point."

"That too. It's good to know — means he can make a mistake. And when he does…."

Her eyes brightened as Nick opened the passenger door and gestured for her to enter. "We'll get him!"

"Atta girl, Carrots."

After taking her seat, Judy extracted the business card, her internal voice practicing the word _nocturnia_ again and again. A nervous paw ran along the edge of the card, made of thick and imposing cardstock. Her plan had been solid, but after riling up Arturo Lobos, her mind blossomed with new paths and chances to take — the detective in her shouted with joy. "So should we split up? One of us follow Mister Lobos? See if we can nab him tonight?"

Nick clicked his tongue as he started the engine. "Nah. Let's stick to the plan. Besides, I have a hunch we'll be seeing him again soon enough."

* * *

 _And so ends another Part! Hope you enjoyed it. Another note: I recently joined the staff of **Zootopia News Network** and am taking on a few roles there (which will be great fun!). I plan to release new Parts of  Run on a similar schedule to what I have been doing, though it may be more like 2-3 weeks between updates. But, I will keep at it! (Also, expect a new entry to Off the Trail soon.)_


	21. Chapter 6: Part IV

**_A/N:_** _The full author note is at the end this time. Quick shoutout of thanks to_ ** _winerp_** _for another awesome proofing job! And_ Run _turns one today - yay!_

* * *

 _Run_

"Carrots, those ears of yours make for terrible windows."

With a soft huff, Judy flattened her ears, letting Nick peek over her head and through the cruiser window. Normally, Judy would note the dangers of leaving street corners unlit – and she planned to work that into a campaign speech soon – but tonight, the darkness was welcomed, as it hid their cruiser from the two grizzly bears guarding the entrance to a fancy club. Though the business card had said "restaurant," it misled; the Zootopia Athletic Club was far more than a restaurant.

Between her ears, Nick explained: "This is where the fanciest mammals go to brag about how rich and powerful they are. Exclusive membership, special handshakes, all that good stuff. Hmm, not too unlike the Ranger Scouts…though I'll admit they have nicer suits here."

Nick's breath trapped itself at the base of her ears and dampened her fur until a droplet rolled onto her temple. A part of her was savoring the warmth of this closeness…but a bigger part wanted dry ears. She needed something to encourage his snout to lift off. "Should I keep an eye out for adorable little caps?"

He shifted a few inches, and now only her right ear was being soaked. "No need to pretend, Carrots. You'd like seeing me in that little cap."

Regardless of the potential truth of that statement, a soggy-eared Judy was ready to remove Nick from her head. Fortunately, a legitimate reason slipped out from the night and pulled up to the curb. Judy squinted as one of the grizzlies popped up a gullwing door, and a familiar figure stepped out from the sleek car.

"I'll be honest," Nick said as he finally relinquished his spot between Judy's ears, "I didn't think we'd see him _this_ soon."

His tweed jacket twirled as Arturo Lobos slipped it back on himself and played with the cuff. He looked more disheveled since Nick and Judy had seen him last. He stood with his typical poise, there had been no change there; rather, he simply appeared…nervous, in a way Judy had never seen him before.

Her paw still buzzed from the ire Nick had forced her to stow away during the dinner. Poised to strike down Arturo and Izabella with a mighty rhetorical blow, Judy had been shocked to hear Nick's voice forcing a premature conclusion. Something unresolved smoldered in her gut, and this time, she hoped Nick would stay his caution.

As soon as Arturo had his footing on the dirty urban concrete sidewalk, one of the grizzlies was upon him, ushering him through the padded doors that swung effortlessly into the club and following him inside.

Nick's apparent premonition had Judy cocking an eyebrow. "How did you…."

"A hunch. That's a thing cops get from time to time."

"Oh, you don't say?" She moved to playfully yank his tail as he exited the cruiser, but it whipped out of her reach with timing too precise to be an accident. Nick's cheesy smirk glittered in the sparse light dribbling down from apartment windows and the odd neon sign. Or maybe his smile sparkled of its own accord. Either way, she told him to quit it as she slid from her seat and clung close to the side of the vehicle, doing her best to steer clear of the bear's line of sight.

Nick crept up behind her — he could be incredibly stealthy when the need arose — and kept his voice low. "So what's the plan, Carrots? Smash through a window? Rappel in from the rooftop?"

"How about go in the front door?"

"A gutsy play, lot of moxie. It has potential." Nick drummed his chin with his paw. "And just how do you propose we execute that?"

Total clarity eluded Judy, so she let her plan form naturally as she waved her paw over the scene. "So, um, we need to…distract that grizzly, get him over to the side of the building. Then we can hug this wall, staying in the shadows, and—"

A loud whistle sailed within three inches of her ear. She flinched and turned to find Nick beaming proudly. "Way ahead of you, Carrots."

The sound of glass shattering pulled her back to the club. Nick had found an empty bottle from the dumpster behind their hiding spot and tossed it with impressive aim. It landed a paw's length away from the skinny first-floor window. Nick must have selected a healthy-sized bottle — the noise reverberated and spun around the building's corner. The grizzly practically leaped at the sound and, with cautious steps, made his way toward Nick's distraction.

"After you, Officer Hopps."

The night hid them well, and they slipped across the street and through the plush club door. Judy half-expected another bear or guard — or _anyone_ — to pop out and halt their advance. Instead, Nick and Judy were greeted by a long darkened hallway. They stayed low and started creeping along the mahogany paneling, Judy pulling her ears back to avoid brushing against the oil paintings that hung along either side.

She recognized a few of the mammals whose dimly-lit portraits graced these walls; part of her training had included some history of the city, supplemented by her own dedicated research. Past mayors, titans of industry, and the occasional artist or author glared from the past, their expressions muted, refined. Judy didn't care much for the paintings.

"This is spooky, Nick," she finally gave voice to her fear. "Where is everyone?"

"Maybe they're in their secret club room doing their secret club rituals," Nick opined as the hallway opened to another even darker one. "I'll bet they even wear hoods and robes."

"Always dramatic, aren't you?"

"I prefer creative, but…perhaps I _do_ have a flair for the dramatic." He flicked his ears and waved his tail, adopting the persona of Gazelle sashaying across a stage. Emmitt Otterton had performed it better, but Judy lacked the heart to inform Nick he had been bested. Still, she offered a soft titter as they rounded a corner and entered another dark hallway.

Her laugh had barely cooled when Nick spoke again. "Hmm, you know what?"

"What?"

"They just let two _average_ mammals get into their club. This place certainly has slid."

Judy scoffed…but appreciated the lightheartedness Nick could muster in times of tension. Even in this dim den, Nick's smirk wouldn't lose its luster. Shaped by the slickness required to pull off umpteen cons over the years, his smile could disarm apprehension as quickly as his paw could lift a wallet. Not that the latter was a skill she necessarily appreciated, but it was a skill nonetheless.

And Judy needed one of those skills at the moment…though depending on how this evening would turn out, she might need both. They had been sneaking down two, then three hallways, with no other mammal in sight. The emptiness of the club had Judy's paw trembling as she thumbed the tip of her carrot pen.

Ahead, she spotted the thinnest sliver of light at floor level, and she tapped Nick on his shoulder. "There's a door."

"Ever vigilant, Officer Hopps." It seemed that Nick couldn't resist delivering at least one more snide comment before they approached a slate gray steel door, which reminded Judy of old black-and-white noir flicks she would watch from time to time. Curled up in her bedcovers and peering at her glowing phone screen, she would gasp as the grizzled hero in a trench coat hammered on an old steel door with multiple latches for multiple eye levels, trying to force his way into a speakeasy, meet a mob boss, or accomplish some other dubious end.

This door ahead had three latches, one of which a lazy mammal had left half-open. It also happened to be the highest up, a bunny's forelimb above the tip of Nick's ears. There wouldn't be any breaking down of doors for the time being, but Nick and Judy exchanged a quick and knowing glance, then Judy scurried up Nick's back and let his paws guide her to his shoulders. This maneuver had proven useful on several occasions — though invariably accompanied by a short grumble from Nick. As he leaned in toward the door, Judy caught the lip of the latch. Before she peeked in with one eye, she spotted a word stamped into the doorframe.

 _Nocturnia_.

For all the wealth this ostentatious building displayed, lighting must not have been included in the budget. Maybe the room behind the door had been darkened for this occasion…or perhaps it was always that dark. Nevertheless, all Judy could see was a circle of pale light that rested on what was likely the center of the room. And in the middle stood Arturo, polishing his glasses.

"Watcha got, Carrots?" came Nick's strained whisper. Judy could sense the slight tremor intensifying in his shoulder blades.

"It's Lobos. He's just…standing there," she answered, shifting more weight to the balls of her feet. Nick tried to hide his tiny sigh of relief, but rabbit ears can be tremendously sensitive.

"Anybody else in there?"

"Dunno, it's too dark. I can't… _see_ anything." Judy had half a mind to ask Nick to switch and employ his terrifically powerful night vision…but her own shoulders started to ache at the mere thought. Frustrated by a lack of sight, Judy instead put to use a different sense.

With an ear pressed directly to the slot, she picked up the minuscule sounds that the vast majority of mammals would miss. The deep and grumbling breath of the guard behind the door, the soft skidding of Arturo's nervous feet on the floor, the hum of electricity, it all mingled in a cacophony that an experienced bunny could easily decipher. And as she began painting the rest of the room through sound, Arturo finally spoke, still delivering his words in a strong and decisive tone despite the noise of his feet.

"Good evening, Members of the Citizens Council."

"Okay, even _I_ heard that," Nick murmured. "The name could be a coincidence."

"Yeah, _sure_ ," said a disbelieving Judy. "Could this Council still be around?"

"With the right mammals in play…sure, why not."

"Hmm…well then, this could be important. Let's hang onto this conversation, shall we?" She expertly flipped the carrot pen from its berth in her pocket and shoved the recording end as close to the hole as she could manage. That microphone could capture a surprising amount of detail from a distance. She intended to nab every syllable that spilled out from Lobos' mouth.

A silent twenty seconds passed. Judy and the carrot pen waited for a reply from some of these Council members…and it seemed Arturo was waiting as well. When no reply came, the wolf continued.

"I am pleased to report to you all that our campaign continues to surge forward. We are several points ahead in the latest poll, and most major news networks have selected us as the clear favorite in this election. I'd like to thank you for—"

Judy nearly fell off Nick's shoulders when a booming — and digitally amplified — voice interrupted. "Mister Lobos, this is no time for celebration! Your margin is minimal at best, and it can shift at any time. Do not stand here tonight and attempt to ensure us of your impending victory!"

The pattern of Lobo's feet changed: what had been soft shuffling transformed into arrhythmic tapping. His voice remained steady and clear despite the change. "Certainly, I would not presume to declare victory. Rather, I am here to inform you that we are on the course toward success. Our message is resonating with the people of our city, and—"

Another voice, equally loud but higher-pitched, cut him off. "Your message! It's nothing compared to the rabbit's! Her talk of opportunity is far more popular."

The other voice broke in. "Yes, this amateur and her fox companion are outmaneuvering your professional teams, Mister Lobos. Perhaps we should have approached her rather than you."

Judy held in her gasp, but her feet rose and fell with Nick's muffled snicker. She thought to respond, but Lobos hurriedly filled the gap. "I assure you, esteemed members, our campaign has prepared for every contingency."

"Including a loss?" the higher-pitched voice asked.

The sparse light did show a few patches of Lobos' fur starting to wrinkle under the pressure. But besides that and the tapping of his feet, Arturo stood tall, almost defiant against these disembodied voices. Grudgingly, Judy admitted that Lobos had an impressive ability to keep cool.

"Council Members, though it may be difficult to see the end of this road, know that we are nearing it. With your continued support, we will emerge from this race with our base firmly established."

"Do not forget that _our_ base is already well-established. _You_ are the one hoping to gain power from _us_ , Mister Lobos," the lower-pitched voice said. Judy wondered if the Council consisted of only two mammals, or if they simply had taken leadership over this conversation. She kept listening for other sounds of life — movement, heartbeats, breaths — but heard only the guard's heavy sighs and Arturo's terrified feet.

"Of course, I did not mean to offend." His slight wavering tone betrayed the anger and fear Judy could see burning beneath his cool exterior when she peeked back in. Arturo could likely fool most mammals into believing that he was totally in control at all times, but Judy's heightened and trained senses easily picked through the screen he put up. A part of her took pleasure in seeing the normally collected Lobos squirm under the pressure, even if it was the tiniest of hints.

"Be sure that you don't," admonished the low voice. "You are replaceable, sir. There are many like you who would do anything to have this opportunity."

"Again, my apologies," Lobos said with a slight bow. Judy almost gagged at the disingenuous gesture.

"Now then, your plan for the rabbit, Mister Lobos," the low voice continued. "We have reviewed the points you forwarded earlier. Note that she is better connected than you give her credit for. The Mammal Inclusion Initiative was not our project, though we followed her earnest effort with _great_ interest. She will not be so easy to dissuade as you assume."

Though she didn't know the details of Lobos' assumptions, the smoldering embers in Judy's gut caught fire. The thought that the entirety of her personality — what made her the best choice for that initiative — could be boiled down to talking points and picked apart by a shady group like this yanked painfully on her moral fiber. She had half a mind to rend apart this metal door and have at the stupid council and the nervous wolf.

But Nick centered her. "Good news, Carrots: you actually earned your spot on the ZPD. See, not everything is a conspiracy."

Strangely — maybe as a result of sleep deprivation from this little stakeout or excess adrenaline at being so close to this clandestine encounter — Nick's observation calmed her down. She stood a little taller on his shoulders, which produced another grunt from her partner, and peeked back into the room while laying an ear along the lips of the latch.

"Yes, she will be a challenge. I hope…" the high voice cut out for a moment, getting lost in a shallow wave of… it sounded like static to Judy…before it resurfaced, "…thought through how you will challenge her campaign, given the weakness of your own." And Judy finally understood.

"There's no one here," Judy whispered as Lobos rallied his flagging professionalism with a few tugs on his tweed jacket.

" _What_?" Nick whispered back.

"They're not here, Nick. No one else is here. They're calling from a phone or something."

Nick shuffled his feet while Judy braced herself on the door. "Whelp, if you're gonna run a secret organization, might as well work from home."

Judy chuckled, but her mirth evaporated once Lobos spoke again, delivering his response with a chilling tone. "Her campaign will be neutralized soon enough. I have seen to that personally."

Suddenly, the trembling in Judy's paw had been transmitted to Nick, whose entire body was quaking. Not fearfully, she could tell as much…no, Nick was _furious_. Judy was, too, but Nick was probably now keen on tearing down the door and picking apart this Council. And now that they knew they couldn't detain anyone other than Lobos if they decided to bust down this door, Judy decided that perhaps it was time to vacate the premises…though she still wanted more from the wolf. She pushed the carrot pen a smidge deeper through the latch.

But something occluded the circle of light. Curious, she retracted the pen and, hoping for enough light, looked in. A bloodshot eye stared back.

Nick was not prepared for Judy's weight to fall backward, and they both tumbled to the floor. Her paw stung as she broke her fall; Nick immediately clutched the back of his head. They would have spent a moment to lick their respective wounds, but the door issued a tremendous squeak as an old bolt lock unlatched. The hallway wobbled as they ran and stopped every ten or twenty feet to regain their bearings.

From far behind them, she heard, "…intruders here…" but she and Nick cut the corner before she could get the rest. Her carrot pen dangled from her paw, swinging with her strides. She thought she heard Nick make a poorly-timed joke, but her heartbeat pounded in her ears…followed by the pounding of heavy feet. Judy quickened her pace, and she and Nick sped down the hallways.

The club's emptiness worked to their advantage. They burst forth from the door unscathed and sprinted to the cruiser. The auto-start feature had not been installed on their particular model, and Judy cursed her department's parsimoniousness while Nick jangled his keys, paws flipping through key after key. She was two steps from the passenger door when Nick shouted with glee and shoved the key into the lock.

The guard's shout couldn't punch through the window as Judy slammed the door shut. Nick had already switched on the ignition and was peeling away from the curb, a stupid and adorable grin planted on his face.

"I think we made him mad."

"Just drive, Nick!" she commanded through a spontaneous fit of laughter — a release of nerves and fear and anger and who knew what else. Her paw trembled with the exhilaration of a good chase. So often, she was the huntress with a police badge tracking her felonious quarry. To be on the other side, though…she wondered if Nick, given his previous occupation, still got excited about being chased.

His paw seemed steady as he guided the speeding cruiser through quiet streets, a minor miracle seeing as how the club stood right in the middle of the financial district, usually the busiest part of the city. As block after block zipped by her window, Judy's adrenaline levels lowered enough to where her mind could process events more rationally.

Obscured by darkness, the details of their cruiser were probably not visible to the guard. The distinct outline of the chassis, however, could have been easy enough to flesh out. Judy had to assume those mysterious mammals knew their existence and their dealings with Lobos could have been discovered by the police.

She would need to accelerate their investigation into Lobos…and perhaps even make an arrest. True, Mansoa would not be able to identify anyone in his present state. The bouquet was still tucked away in the farthest corner of the cruiser's trunk — she had not had ample time to even check on Mansoa's status, let alone mail flowers to his hospital room. Still, even without the hyena's testimony, she would need to do _something_ to stop Arturo Lobos. And soon.

Automatically, her paw went to her chest, and a slight twinge of panic took hold for a moment at the lack of her badge. Bogo had yet to reinstate her and Nick, their administrative leave being continually extended. Yet, with this revelation of Lobos' shady ties, maybe Judy could convince Bogo to make the right decision and put her back where she belonged.

Her carrot pen sat motionless in her lap. On it was evidence that could let her bring down the power structure of Zootopia once more. She buzzed and trembled, unsure of how to mix excitement and terror in appropriate measures.

Nick must have noticed her unease and spoke up as he slowed down from the breakneck pace of escape and actually signaled a turn. "How's that pen sounding?"

"Let's see." Judy queued up the recording as Nick pulled the cruiser into an abandoned parking lot. They had covered about twenty blocks — they had made exceptional time for city driving — and had left the financial district for a dustier part of town. Concrete granules from the crumbling structure of a former gas station coated the bottom of Judy's feet as she dismounted.

Judy praised the makers of this pen, as the recording played pristinely in the slightly chilled nighttime air. Nick leaned in and perked up his ears as Judy held the pen aloft. Along with the mystery mammals, Lobos' clear voice shone through the whole time, and Judy could barely contain her smile.

"Oh, Nick, this is perfect! We've got him! We can take this to Bogo, like, right now! We can get our badges back and put this whole thing to…rest…what?"

Her partner didn't share in her smile. The cheesy grin from earlier had melted into an unpleasant frown. "We should bring Bogo something we illegally picked up after breaking into one of the swankiest clubs in Zootopia with some of the most well-connected mammals in the city?"

Maybe she hadn't infused her voice with enough enthusiasm. She tried again, more jovially. "That doesn't matter, Nick. We have him on tape! He can't get outta this one!"

But Nick held firm. In fact, he started clicking his tongue and shaking his head, reminiscent of the disdain he had shown the first time they had met. "Doing what? Chatting with a few voices that nobody knows?"

"No! They're…." She didn't like pausing, not when so many new ideas wanted to spill out of her. Her detective mind had engaged, delving into untold possibilities. Surely, Nick could see how powerful this evidence was. But, Judy's brain had stalled. Her mouth hung open in an unattractive way as Nick stood stoically.

"Doing nothing, that's right."

Words found her and left as quickly. "But Nick, it's Lobos—"

"This isn't a presentable case yet, Carrots. We have a piece, maybe. But not enough to take it anywhere."

Her tail fluttered in frustration. She found it almost unconscionable that she would have to explain this to him. "But there's collusion here. He's working — _as the mayor_ — for this…whatever they are!"

"Exactly. Whatever they are. That's not enough. No real details of a _nefarious_ plan, nothing about our pal Mansoa, no evidence of wrongdoing. For all we know, this could be some little advisory group tucked away from City Hall. Sure, meeting his buddies in the dark and creepy room in the middle of the night would be weird, but it could be a whole bunch of things other than an evil plot."

Nick's caution caught her by surprise. Some time had passed since he had pulled his last con and, so far as Judy knew, there had been no more pawpsicles, tax evasion, nor any other sly and scheming thing since then. Perhaps Nick had grown more reticent with time, maybe by nature of being with the police department…or something a little more personal.

Or maybe some latent excitement from sneaking into the meeting and being chased now drove her mind to see what wasn't there. The wolf had always been so slick and smooth, slipping away from accusations with aplomb. Despite her gut screeching of foul play, she had nothing to support her hunch of Lobos' dirtiness. The thought of having something concrete on him was an intoxicating notion. Had she drugged herself into reading too much into this scene?

The carrot pen weighed heavily in her paw. It had overturned one regime before and now was poised to do it again. Certainly, her gut couldn't be wrong. _There's something here. There has to be._

"Nick, we _have_ to take this to Bogo. We can't wait."

Nick had started pacing across the parking lot. His feet kicked up puffs of dust that sparkled in the few stars that hung over this part of the city. A short-lived bout of homesickness passed over her as she remembered the universe she could see from her parents' back porch. The swirling galaxies in her head almost kept her from hearing Nick. "Carrots, you're not seeing the bigger picture here."

She shook herself back and planted a paw on her hip. "And what does _that_ mean?"

Nick looked pensive as he tapped his snout. "You need to think about this election. How would it look if you accuse your opponent of orchestrating a massive conspiracy without any evidence? Because even if you take it only to Bogo, everyone _will_ find out you're doing this."

His pacing quickened and his tone grew pedantic — signs of doom-and-gloom to come. "Sure, Lobos said something about taking down your campaign, but that's to be expected. You give this to Bogo, it leaks out, the press won't be too fond of any of this, you'll have mammals take to the streets — remember that not even half of Zootopia agrees with your platform — calls to resign will come flooding in, _chaos_ , my dear partner…."

Judy huffed loud enough to stop Nick in his tracks. "The _election_? I don't care about that. We _need_ to put an end to this, Nick — whatever _this_ is. It's our duty. That's what we swore to uphold when we got our badges."

Nick's face soured so fast when he locked eyes with her that it made Judy gasp. "And what about our duty to those volunteers who worked night and day to get you here? What about our duty to the mammals who cheer you on, and want to fight for you to win this election?"

Her partner held back — she could tell by his bristling tail — and let the sounds of the city at night fill in the gap. Amid a distant car horn and the beginnings of a howl in one of the nearby buildings, Judy thought about it. Perhaps Nick had a point: as her campaign manager, he needed to be concerned about this potential outcome. And Emmitt and the other volunteers popped into her head. Her imagination redrew them in the throes of disappointment, and she shuddered.

The pen weighed heavier in her paw, and she clenched it in a fist. "…Nick, this is more important…."

He could move so quietly when he wanted to. His snout was suddenly quivering inches from her nose. "And what about _me_?"

He sounded incredibly bitter — like his disgusting morning coffee — and she hated it. She had controlled her instinct to flinch, but now let her head roll to the side, unable to keep her gaze trained on her partner. "What _about_ you?"

Even when he had been pulling cons, Nick had always retained a semblance of warmth in his demeanor, enough to put at ease his next mark. Admittedly, she had found the sentiment slightly endearing, in its own special Nick way. But Judy had never seen him ice over the way he did in this abandoned parking lot. That scared her more than anything in her life.

"You must be joking. You think all of this is fun? Or easy? I crack a smile, tap a few sentences on the phone, and suddenly you're running for mayor? The speeches, the platform, everything behind the scenes, organizing these mammals who want you to win…do you understand how much _I've_ given to this? To help you become the Mayor of Zootopia?"

His hot breath splashed against her cheek, and she felt droplets form in her fur and chill in the cool night air. Her paw trembled as she tried to rebut. "Nick—"

"And you want to throw it all away for what? A couple words on a _carrot pen_? You need to _think_ , Judy. More than you _have_ been thinking, it seems."

She had come to love when the fur rose on the back of her neck as Nick said her name. But this time, it was not born from the tenderness he could show. She nearly spat as she shouted, "What do you mean by that! My head's been _just_ as wrapped up in this election as yours!"

He took one step back and leveled his gaze. "Oh, really? Your head's been in this game? How did that go for you when they found Mansoa? Or with the Mannered Mammals? Or any time you're around Arturo and Izabella? Not a whole lot of thinking going on there."

The droplets from Nick's breath rolled over the scars on her cheek, and she winced as Gideon's marks burned. It was almost enough to distract her from the daggers her partner had delivered. "…Nick…."

"No."

He said it so softly that Judy wasn't sure if he had spoken or if she had imagined it. His eyes fell away, and together, they stood in silence for a full minute. It took every ounce of Judy's flagging strength to dam her tears. A cricket chirped from inside the burned-out gas station, and she waited for it to finish its refrain before she spoke again. "…what?"

"You want to burn up all of this hard work, _fine_. You're the candidate. Take the pen to Bogo in the morning and ruin this race. If you don't care, then neither will I."

The dam gave out, and two tears joined Nick's breath. When she had pleaded with him under the bridge a year ago, she had cried, vulnerable and heartfelt. She had been wrong, and she needed Nick to know that. Now, she did everything she could to hide those tears…and failed. "Please, Nick, that's not what I…what I _want_ …."

"Yeah, well, you don't always get what you want, Judy." He shuffled backward, avoiding eye contact as Judy's tears flowed more freely and she started to sniffle. "You have an interview with Peter Moosebridge tomorrow afternoon. If you still want to be mayor tomorrow, then I suggest you study up for it."

"…Nick, wait."

But it was too late; he was flipping through his bunch of keys. "Here." One key slid effortlessly from the ring, as if it were eager to escape. He tossed it at her feet. "Take the cruiser, Judy. I'll walk from here."

Every fiber of her being screamed at her to stop him, to find the right thing to say to keep him with her. Her partner, her campaign manager…maybe even more than that…was walking away, leaving behind plumes of glittering dust. Instead, her wet eyes watched pulverized concrete flutter in the air as Nick went down the street and slipped into the night.

The cricket stopped chirping, and the dust settled. Tears splashed on the parking lot as she looked to her paw. The carrot pen was too heavy. It dragged her down to the ground and rolled from her grip. Between her sobs, the words came to her one minute too late.

"Nick…I need you."

* * *

 _Thank you, everyone, for your patience as I worked on this chapter. Life has become very complicated as of late, but I always enjoy the chances to slip into this world and share my thoughts with you._

 _As_ Run _turns one today (4/29), I stop and think about where my writing for this story has started and where I hope it will go as we near the end. It's been a wild ride, one that has taught me a lot and helped me rekindle a long-lost passion for the written word._

 _To that end, I'm now looking into professional writing opportunities and exploring what could be. And that is a direct result of all of you. Your comments and critiques, thoughts and opinions, and care and support have encouraged me to finally take that next step. It will not be an easy journey, but it's something I look forward to with a lot of excitement (and a hint of terror). Thank you all for being a part of this._

 _And special thanks to the ones who pick apart these chapters and keep me in line - **winerp** and **TheCatweazle**. As well as thanks to those of you who have most recently left reviews - **Berserker88, shiro-wolfman-k, chorpion, Ande883, Hawktooth, Omnitrix 12, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, InTheLionsDenOnDA, Vladimir (guest),** and **YFWE.** Thank you for everything you have done._

 _And Chapter 7 is up next. Part I is looking to be a good one, so stayed tuned for more!_


	22. Chapter 7: Part I

_Full A/N below, but... Run's back, baby :D._

* * *

 _Run_

Nick Wilde could be sneaky if he wanted to be. When the fox wanted to vanish, he could pull it off with an almost enviable smoothness. On the rare nights when he wouldn't walk her to ZPD's entrance, she was often left spinning around at her desk, silently cursing her magically disappearing partner.

But last night, there had been no magic in Nick's disappearance. She had fully and painfully known why he had left. And though she had tried to fix it, to chase after him, he was still as sneaky as ever.

After he had slipped into the darkness, Judy had swept up the keys to their cruiser…and then had fumbled to get them into the lock. It had cost her two minutes, and what a precious two minutes she lost. By the time she had revved the engine and peeled out from the lot, Nick had disappeared.

Her cruiser had wiggled across the yellow line on her trip home as tears split the streetlights into a hundred shimmering beams. And her pillow wouldn't be spared from the soaking of a good sobbing session. Her caterwauling had carried on through most of the night, and much to her surprise, her neighbors had let her be. Perhaps they had figured it best to stay out.

Whenever her older siblings had picked on her — the younger ones never stood a chance — Judy would pull her own ears as a way to cope. She despised the habit, really, but in times of crisis, her paws would almost automatically clamber up to the tips and yank hard. By the end of this night, her ears ached and would have glowed red without the cover of her fur.

Ears the color of a clown's nose would not be attractive to a television audience, Judy knew, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the makeup mammal said nothing. As Judy sat still and let the now-familiar coating of gray makeup cake her face, she did her best to set aside the events of last evening and the miserable night she had spent alone in her apartment.

Originally, she had another hour to prepare herself for her time on Peter Moosebridge's afternoon cable talk show, _Mammal Matters._ But when Gazelle had unexpectedly canceled due to…well, _food poisoning_ was the official word, though the simmering feud between her and Moosebridge had become common knowledge, Judy's slot had flown to top billing. She admitted it was a much better slot than being buried in between "Economic Policymaking with Gil" and "5 Reasons to Invest in Rice." Yet, without Nick's guidance, she was sure to make some sort of mistake.

She pawed her phone. While Judy knew about — and slightly dreaded — her new time slot, her… _Nick_ would not. The morning had come and gone, and his email had not dinged from her inbox.

"Mister Moosebridge is ready for you, Miss Hopps."

Judy nodded and slipped out of the prep chair. Her feet trembled as she connected with the chilly marble floor. She was about to thank the production assistant when the blessed sound emanated from her pocket. Along with turning down her ringer, she scanned the awaited email.

 _Judy:_

 _Your talking points for Moosebridge are below. Try not to ad lib too much._

 _Nick_

Judy tried to hide her wince at Nick's use of the business colon in his greeting, and it ended up as an odd grimace that had the assistant clearing her throat. "Everything okay, Miss Hopps?" she asked with a little forced politeness.

"Yep…let's, let's go!" Judy infused her tone with a cheer that tasted bitterly artificial on her tongue. The assistant could likely tell but said nothing as she escorted the bunny down a hallway bustling with all sorts of mammals who composed the production team.

Between dodging a giraffe's spindly legs and a bear's paws swinging madly as he sprinted to wherever he needed to go, she dove into Nick's talking points. They were basic, kept her locked onto her message, and offered a few conciliatory lines for sure-to-appear topics like Kyle Mansoa. Judy's mind read them in Nick's voice, a habit that had emerged over the thousands of messages they had exchanged as partners. She had foolishly told him this once, and afterward, he had taken to speaking aloud as he typed, stopping every so often with, "Remember, Carrots, _this_ is what I sound like."

The memory almost made her cry again, but her mind refocused and churned through the email — work could take her mind off most anything. She had memorized the text just as the assistant led her onto the production stage. It was smaller than how it appeared on television, with no more than a few chairs, a flimsy backdrop painted with the Zootopian skyline, and one moose flipping through a stack of papers as he paced around the set.

"Strike this one…try this instead…" Judy caught him mumbling to a closely tailing otter. The otter's paw frantically scribbled on his own stack of papers, a blue pencil furiously tearing to shreds the hard work of several writers. Judy had previously met Mister Moosebridge — with Nick and half of a party's buffet in tow — but she had forgotten how _tall_ he stood. The antlers were much more imposing in person than when they were shrunken down to fit her budget-sized screen in the Grand Pangolin Arms.

"Ah, Miss Hopps! So wonderful to see you again…this time without cricket patties, I hope?" It seemed that he had not forgotten their last encounter. She might have cringed were his smile not so disarming. Years of experience on the nightly news and talk shows had sculpted a smile, chiseled from marble and polished until it gleamed. Judy pursed her lips as she reached high to shake his hoof.

"Mister Moosebridge, thank you for having me on your show."

"Oh, it's my privilege!" One especially large tooth caught the glare from one of the overhead lamps, and the sheen just about blinded Judy. "We're very fortunate to have you, a candidate for _mayor_ — and a hero of the ZPD — grace our stage!" His grandiosity had Judy wary as he invited her to sit in one of the plush red seats. From reviewing old footage of the show, Judy knew her place had become known as "The Hot Seat." But, Nick's email had prepared her for a grilling.

She smiled brightly as the moose discarded his paper stacks and slipped rather daintily into his seat. Soft calls of "clear the set" rang out, and in no time, Judy and Moosebridge were alone.

"So…you _really_ remember the cricket burger thing?"

He laughed. "Hard to forget. But I won't hold it against you too much," he said with a sly wink. "Besides, if I remember right, it was your partner's doing…the fox, right?"

"Nick, yes."

"Ah, Nick, of course. And he's your campaign manager now, too, isn't he? Is he backstage somewhere?"

Her eyes fell to the floor, but she quickly brought them back up. She couldn't afford to show signs of trouble now. "He…had other appointments to keep."

"I see. Well, I'm sure he prepared you well. Beyond the spritzing of cricket, he seemed like a wise mammal."

In any other setting, Judy would have pondered that comment. She would have thought of all the wonderful parts of Nick. But Moosebridge left her no time to think, only to blink as he cleared his throat.

"Look alive, Miss Hopps. We're going on in five…four…three…."

Judy brandished her smile as the lights above shifted into place. They were hot, and beads of sweat threatened to trickle down her cheek. She focused on staying calm and cool and got it under enough control just as the camera's light went red.

"Hello, and welcome to _Mammals Matters_. I'm your host, Peter Moosebridge. We have several fascinating guests and their stories today. Perhaps one of the most fascinating is sitting across from me right now. I'm joined here today by a heroic police officer and candidate for mayor, Miss Judy Hopps."

"Thank you for having me on your show, Mister Moosebridge."

"Oh, please, Miss Hopps, call me Peter. "

A good Bunnyburrow education usually came with a lesson on manners. "Yessir" and "no, sir" were expected from a young rabbit, as were more formal titles. Judy had mostly adapted to the casual style of urban life, but Moosebridge's offer still struck her a little oddly. She maintained her smile nonetheless. "Of course, Peter."

"Excellent! Then we'll get right into it." Moosebridge shifted in his seat, leaning forward, plying a curious furrowing of his brow. "So, your campaign. We're closing in on Election Day, and you've been meeting mammals and practically storming the city. How are you feeling about it?"

Moosebridge's soft question was expected at the opening, and Judy humored her host. "It's been a wonderful time, Peter. I've met so many mammals who want what's best for our city. They're as excited as I am to see some new things come to Zootopia, and hearing it from them has been my favorite part of the campaign."

 _Save for those Mannered Mammals_ , Judy wisely left out from her remarks. Even hidden under his furrowed, interviewing brow, Moosebridge's eyes gleamed under the stage lights. He was genuinely interested in being there, Judy could tell. She straightened up in her seat a bit more as Peter continued.

"What's been your most memorable conversation? What stands out to you?"

Judy gave her prepared reply — a young skunk had asked her if he could be mayor someday — and then went along with several more warm-up questions. Moosebridge was clearly getting into his stride, as each new question brought him an inch closer to Judy's space. His antlers cast weird shadows across the backdrop, but expert technicians kept the lights trained where they needed to be. Judy nearly glowed as she exchanged more short bursts with her interviewer.

And then Moosebridge opened up a real salvo. "So, Miss Hopps, your campaign has experienced quite a few turns, hasn't it? None quite as visible as Kyle Mansoa."

She gulped. She knew the question was on the way, and Nick's email had prepared her. Yet, she still clenched up at the mention of his name…and her failure as a police officer. She had hidden her disappointment at her administrative leave when Moosebridge had called her "a heroic police officer." But now, she struggled immensely to keep her composure as he shined his spotlight on a very dark chapter of Judy's career.

She let her smile fade gradually into a slight frown while squeezing her paws. "Yes, Peter, that…was very difficult for me, both as a professional and as a mammal. It was very personal."

"I could imagine so, Miss Hopps. And we continue to wish for his speedy recovery. But, Miss Hopps, from what we know now, he seemed quite the troubled soul. And your policies on creating opportunities for mammals here in Zootopia could perhaps have helped. Can you tell me more about your plans?"

Judy blinked twice. She had not prepared for this twist, and Nick's notes fled her mind. Wherever he was — she truly hoped he was watching — that fox would be cringing right now, pained by the knowledge that Judy would go off-script.

Moosebridge still appeared inquisitive, but his pivot betrayed another motive. He was gearing up for something, though Judy couldn't tell what for sure. With growing trepidation, she played along and followed his path.

"Well, as you know, the investigation found that he had been struggling with some very personal issues. And it seemed he believed he had nowhere to turn to. But here in Zootopia, we _help_ one another — it's what makes this city great. Mammals must be made aware of all the services offered to help each other. The ZPD, for example, has several outreach initiatives already that we can share with more mammals."

Moosebridge continued down this path for several more questions, digging more deeply into policy measures that Judy had proposed. And it felt… strange to her. She enjoyed a good policy discussion, but throughout it, the air crackled, an electricity building around _something_. It almost made her fur stand on end.

And, as the interview neared its conclusion, the electric charge finally released.

"Miss Hopps, a final question. Now, normally, this show is more about the _job_ that needs to get done. We're personable, of course, but we like the _facts_ here on _Mammal Matters._ " He delivered it with panache so characteristic of a news anchor that Judy was tempted to turn off her television. "But earlier today, we received an unconfirmed tip that we _must_ learn more about. This tipster says that you and your campaign manager, Mister Wilde, are…well, _involved_."

Her gut sank through her chair and onto the floor. She now knew exactly what he meant — what he had been preparing for — but she deeply desired to buy a few more precious seconds. "Involved, sir?"

"Ah, I'll be blunt: a romantic relationship, Miss Hopps. It was an unexpected revelation, to be sure. Can you shed some light on this?"

She moved quickly, hoping speed would quell his interest. "Well, that's a very interesting rumor, indeed. And I can't really comment on that—"

"You can't or you won't?"

Moosebridge's sudden interruption made Judy flinch internally. For a moment, she felt like shouting his ears off, but the thought fell away just as quickly as it came up. Her image was at stake...well, more at stake than ever before. Yelling down a famous news anchor while being viewed by thousands of mammals all around the city on live television played a huge part in her response.

"Nick and I have worked closely together for a long time. We're good partners on the force and good partners with my candidacy. And that's why I'm here today, isn't it? To talk about opportunity?"

If Judy could have, she would have given herself a high-five at her strong recovery. It was all rumor at this point, and definitely _not_ the topic that she was to be discussing on the show. She knew Moosebridge to be tenacious at getting answers, but she hoped he would appreciate her seriousness. That seemed so much more like him.

And to Judy's pleasure and honestly mild surprise, Moosebridge dropped it. He brought the questions back to the topic of her candidacy and what she planned on doing for the city. With relative ease, she gave him the answers that he was looking for, only a few times feeling like she could have stated things in a different way to make them sound better.

Just like that, the allotted time for the show was up, so Judy and Moosebridge both stood up. Then came the rather awkward moment when the two drastically different mammals bid each other farewell. Judy's head was about the same size as Peter's hoof, if not a little smaller, which made for quite the spectacle as she shook it.

As she walked out of the studio, thoughts were running rampant through her head. Even though she said nothing that would confirm or deny the rumors that had recently surfaced, it went without saying that some would make things out to be way bigger than they actually were.

Judy continued to waver between anger and worry due to the situation. A part of her was furious that the public would even think of putting a rumor like that out there, while another part of her was worried that it could have disastrous consequences for her campaign. She didn't want to have her chances at mayor be ruined by something as petty as her relationship with her campaign manager, or rather if it stretched beyond Nick's technical title. But she knew that something that insignificant _was_ capable of that much destruction.

But there was one tiny part of her that felt neither of the two emotions. This part of her wanted something, and badly. She wanted so desperately for Nick to call her, or at least shoot her a text telling her to meet him somewhere. Now more than ever she needed him, and he was nowhere to be seen or heard from.

As if some force was listening to her thoughts, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She stopped dead in her tracks, ears shooting up as the feeling reverberated through her thigh. As quickly as she could, Judy yanked the device into the open air and glared, hoping with all of her being that she was about to be relieved of this one desire.

 _Emmitt Otterton._ She stared at the screen of her phone, secretly thinking about letting the call go to voicemail, but she figured he was calling for a reason. Judy answered the call, still a little disappointed but eager to hear what he had to say.

"What's up, Emmitt?"

"I think you can take a pretty good guess." The otter's tone took Judy a little by surprise. He was usually so calm and collected, but right now she could tell that he was stressed out quite a bit. "We've already got people online wondering about you and Nick... what should we tell them?"

"Don't we have real issues to discuss?" Judy said, but she cringed just after realizing that her response came out a bit rude. The moment of hesitation over the line was only a couple of seconds, but to Judy, it felt like an eternity.

"Well, sure… but we need to do _something_ about this."

"Have you talked to Nick?"

"I haven't been able to get ahold of him, and neither has anybody else. We thought he was with you."

Judy took a few seconds and let out a deep sigh. Things really couldn't be going much worse, and the one that might have a solution was nowhere to be seen or heard from. As she thought, her free paw went up to her furrowed brow, and she anxiously rubbed her forehead.

"Alright. Just stall them for now. I'll see what I can do."

"Ok, thank you, Judy. Good luck."

Judy pulled the phone away from her ear, Emmitt already having hung up the call. The rabbit had no idea what to do. Until now, she really didn't know how much she needed Nick in times like this. His ability to always know what to say had proven priceless during her campaign, but she now realized just how much she took him for granted.

She felt useless without him, and it made her feel terrible about saying what she said to him.

Judy stared at the screen of her phone, still unsure what to do. She did the only thing that she _thought_ she could do.

She called Nick.

* * *

 **A/N** \- Hey there, Euphonemes here. I'm excited to say that _Run_ is back! We're getting close to the end, just a few sections left to go. Life's been difficult for me lately and has left me little time to write the rest of this story. So, to help bring us to the conclusion, I'd like to introduce _Run_ 's new coauthor: **Ande883**! I'll still be around to help guide the overall plot, but he is picking up the tough job of writing this out. I'm so happy he has joined this project, and I know he'll do a wonderful job of finishing up _Run_. Thanks so much to him and to all of you who read, review, fave and follow!

 **A/N** : What's up, guys? It's Ande883. As happy as Euphonemes was to have me help him finish off this fantastic story, I was completely speechless when he asked for my help to do this. Like he said, it's going to be a tough job, but I'm so excited to be a part of this and to lend my own talent and style to such a unique and wonderful story. I sure hope you enjoyed the long awaited return, and I hope you will enjoy the rest of the story to come! -Ande883


	23. Chapter 7: Part II

_Run_

The spoon in her carrot stew clanked against the crock. The dull sound carried surprisingly well in the nearly-empty diner. The only other mammal, the coati… Karen was her name… dallied over by the coffee maker, debating on whether she should return to Judy's table to check in.

And it was _only_ Judy at the table. No campaign staff, no reporters, no Emmitt. And no Nick. She sighed as she thought to bring the spoon with cold and now-gelatinous stew to her lips. Normally, she enjoyed filling herself up with something as warm and delectable as her favorite carrot stew. But she had stared at the crock for almost two hours, her hunger hardening like the stew.

Along with the stew were an untouched glass of water, her carrot pen, and her cell phone. As she leaned on the table with her elbow, letting her head rest in her free paw, she scrolled through her recent call history. The last ten items in the list were calls that went unanswered by Nick. Little red arrows denoted each missed call. Fresh scars, still bleeding.

Her paw hovered over _Redial._ One more time couldn't hurt. Her thumb trembled, the tiniest of fur strands grazing the screen. This would be the one he would answer. He would pick up, she would bawl. He would run to the diner, the door's bottom scraping against the tile while the little bell on the jamb called out his arrival. She would fall, fall deeply into his waiting arms, peek up to a quivering snout with that scar. She would want him to know, she would tell him everything, lean in close and bask in the warmth of his breath.

"You alright, hun?"

Karen sounded upset at having to swing by at all. Annoying, as Judy was a consistent client. Even more so as the rabbit was roused from her dream. A fanciful dream, at that.

"No thank you."

"Want me to take that?" The waitresses' paw slid toward the chilling crock. Judy nearly smacked the coati.

"No-no, I'm...not quite finished. Thank you, ma'am."

"Mhm," Karen almost spat as she left the bunny to the emptiness of her booth. Judy wouldn't take another bite, but she enjoyed twirling the spoon through the hardening stew. A distraction, _any_ distraction, was welcome.

The phone's screen had flickered out, calm in its standby mode. That infuriated her, more because she was powerless to get her phone to ring. Still, despite every instinct to flip it on and hit _Redial_ , she sat and hoped for that blasted device to emit some sound. Between the silent moments, her spoon clanked against the crock and she thought about herself, what being Judy Hopps meant anymore.

An agile detective mind, always churning, ran through an interrogation.

 _Who am I?_

She was the first rabbit cop turned mayoral candidate. That part was obvious. At least, it _should_ have been obvious. She watched the fur on the back of her paw shift with the spoon. It looked the same as always, and yet it wasn't.

 _What do I stand for?_

Opportunity. She stood for equal opportunity for all citizens of Zootopia. That's what she told everyone, and enough of them believed her. She had truly grown to love the word over the course of her campaign. It meant something, about her and beyond her.

 _What do I want?_

For a second, she didn't quite know. She stared at her alien paw, waiting to understand. When she was little, she had wanted to make the world a better place. But that was a time when she thought Zootopia was a perfect place where nothing bad ever happened. Now she knew something closer to the truth: bad things happened all the time, big and small. Making it _better_...could one bunny even come close to achieving that?

 _Is this campaign really what I want?_

That question has buzzed around her floppy ears like a swarm of locusts that could devour a carrot field in a day. She did at the start, and it was unquestionable in her eyes. She had been dead set on running for mayor, raring and ready to go with Nick at her side. But he wasn't at her side anymore. Nobody had been able to get ahold of him.

Judy looked back to her phone, worried that something was wrong. That worry, however, didn't soften her anger. Judy was still furious that Nick had ignored every single one of her calls. Knowing how involved he was with that phone of his, there was no doubt that he had seen every single call and let it go to voicemail.

Before she knew it, her paw had pressed _Redial_. Sighing, she raised the phone to her ear for the eleventh time. Once again, his voicemail answered.

" _Hello?"_ his voice began, then paused for a few seconds as to make it seem as if he were there, waiting for Judy to finally get her say in.

" _Gotcha."_ He didn't get her, but she moved on as she had the other ten times. " _I'm not here at the moment. Please leave a message."_

She didn't leave a message. What she had to say should have been evident in the sheer number of missed calls. The fact that he refused to pick up must've meant that talking to her was the last thing he wanted to do. She had figured as much after the first few tries, but she just didn't want that to be the case.

She still didn't know why she kept calling Nick. There were plenty of others that she could call, to hear their voices and have them prop her up. Yet, she was pulled toward Nick. He was the only one who really knew what was going on in her head. It was unnerving at times, but that aspect of him could be so… attractive.

The fuzzy warmth in her gut when she thought of Nick felt real. And she wanted it so badly to _be_ real, but she was split dangerously in two. One half wanted to jump at any chance she had to finally go and get him, confessing everything that was on her mind and have him sweep her off her feet. The other half thought deep down that this was a phase, the consequences of them spending too much time together. A crush that would smolder then fade like the last log in a Bunnyburrow summer bonfire.

Her mind swam, buried in the bifurcation of her feelings. She had brought her carrot pen to the diner to shove those feelings aside for a short time. Between tiny bites of carrot stew, she had kept the pen close to her ear, listening again and again to the voices she had recorded. Eyes closed, she did it once more, picking apart every syllable, desperately working to draw a lead from the noise.

But Nick was noisier in her mind. This work with her pen wasn't what she wanted to do right now; she couldn't even fool herself. The voices would talk, and she would lose focus a few minutes into the recording, subtle guidance back to what she _actually_ thought was more important.

Judy let out a mind-clearing sigh. "C'mon, Jude, it's time to focus."

Her eyes flicked from her phone to the pen several times. She set the pen down, reaching for her phone instead. Thumbing the power button, she held it down for a few seconds and the device turned off completely. Like the picture of her and Nick on her phone's lock screen, her hesitation vanished, and Judy slid the device into her pocket.

Finally, mercifully , she could rev up her cop brain. The fuel of focus flowed, and she concentrated on one problem: who Lobos was talking to. She pressed the button once more, and the warbling recording played in her ears once more. Over and over, she listened, and she felt the voice become more and more familiar. She tried as hard as she could to remember where she had heard it before. It was powerful, masculine, and a little gravelly.

The familiarity was a trickle, but the longer she listened, the more it flowed. Flowing now from memory. It felt like so long ago, probably because of how much she had been up to in the last few weeks. But the memory cleared quickly in her mind.

It cleared because it had been so powerful, integral to her sitting in this diner picking at cold carrot stew. She remembered everything, from the unwelcoming greeting of the corrections officers to the way that the fur of his mane looked so mangy. And the way the laugh of the once-mayor of Zootopia pealed in this horrid white room, the way it inflamed her and drove her to announce her candidacy. That gravelly laugh.

Lionheart was the caller.

Her paws squeezed the booth's cushion to keep her from screaming. The sudden and shocking clarity brought forth a flood of tasks that she now needed to do. First on her list: She needed to talk with Lionheart again.

A stomach-knotting twinge of intimidation hit her as she recalled their first conversation. Lionheart had been relentless in trying to dissuade her from running for mayor, telling her she didn't have the will to do it. Nothing had infused her will with more iron than his laugh, his scorn. She had run for mayor, and she had had a fighting chance...until she let it slip away with Nick in the night.

But now, this wasn't about her campaign anymore. This was about bringing justice to bear upon a crooked politician. To do what the badge sitting in Bogo's desk gave her the authority to do.

Judy pocketed the pen and slid out of her chair. No matter how it turned out, tomorrow was going to be a day of revelation. Lionheart had to know about the Council; he was a mayor, after all. And she would pry and poke and prod until she got the information she needed.

But there was something else that she hoped to find out tomorrow. She pulled back out her phone and, as their picture together came back to life, she sent a text of her new plan before dropping cash on the table and walking out.

 _Does he still care about me?_

* * *

Robinson still didn't crack a smile, but this time, Judy didn't care. Nerves had gotten the better of her the first time, a sense that she should at least try to make small-talk with the mammal. Today, she was no longer burdened by that sense.

In silence, they proceeded down the hall. The white of the cinder-block that made up said hallway looked all the brighter with the lights on, almost enough to make her shield her eyes from the intensity. She squinted to focus on the large metal door at the end of the corridor, the one separating her from Lionheart. As they approached the door, Robinson proceeded to inform her of the conditions of her visit, same as before.

Fear has a funny way of hiding, lying in wait until the exact wrong moment to rear its ugly head. The metallic clank of the door opening sent fear scurrying from its hideaway, filling her gut with a heavy terror. Inside that room was perhaps the answer that she had been looking for, and that thought horrified her as much as it energized her.

Nerves flared as she began the first of her five minutes with the lion.

Even for a "first thing in the morning" appointment, Lionheart looked as fresh as he could. "Ms. Hopps. A pleasure to see you again. Have a seat, please."

He was polite and a tad playful as his chains rattled. Always the consummate politician. She got the feeling he would use his best politician-speak today to waste her time with banter. But she knew she was all business from here on out.

"And might I say," Lionheart continued, " _wonderful_ interview yesterday. Way to stick it to the gossipers!" It smacked of sarcasm...or maybe Lionheart knew no other way _to_ speak. Perhaps condescension came naturally by this point.

For some reason, she felt the need to reiterate what she had told Moosebridge. "My strictly professional relationship with my campaign manager has nothing to do with my visit here today." At least, she thought he was still her manager. Her text had gone unanswered, which had shaken but not broken the resolve she had steeled for this meeting.

Lionheart moved to say something, but Judy wouldn't let him. "I need to know more about the Council."

He would play coy, Judy expected as much. His little shrug infuriated her. "A Council? I have no idea which one you're referring to, Miss Hopps."

She acted as if she hadn't heard him, which made him bear his fangs. "Yes, you do. I know you were." She had given over everything on her person at the reception desk...except her trusty carrot pen. It landed delicately from her grip onto the table, and she let the sound of it fill the ugly room. The guards at the rear wall stood impassively, like before.

But Lionheart could not keep his composure, not as well as he had before. His patronizing smirk melted as the conversation from the Zootopia Athletic Club unfolded. His piercing eyes disappeared behind sad eyelids, and his exhausted sigh blew across the table. Judy had expected more of a fight, but maybe Lionheart was more tired she had planned for. If nothing else, it saved her a few minutes of digging.

When Lionheart came back to the room, she set upon him. "You were talking with Arturo Lobos the other night. Why?"

He brought up a little resistance, a reflex from a veteran politician. "It's merely business, Miss Hopps. I was just trying to help a fellow politician out. I…." Maybe he noticed himself slipping into the protection of a lie. Judy had caught him red-pawed, and Lionheart was failing to hide it. She watched as his entire demeanor shifted. His paws fell down to the floor, as did his whole body. Sagging with the weight of the truth he was ready to give.

"Mansoa betrayed us, Miss Hopps. Betrayed _me_. Kyle...I liked him. He was a good aide, a good worker. I don't know what they must have on him, but it must be pretty good. He had always been loyal."

It took a moment for it to register, but she nearly fell off her chair when it did. "Wait...Kyle…"

"They turned him against me, Miss Hopps. The Council turned a good worker against me and my administration."

Shock turned to questions in Judy's detective mind. "Why?"

"They didn't like me when I took office. I was a threat to their power because I was a strong leader. Without them, my job _would_ have been to run the city. But they couldn't control me like they could with mayors of the past."

It took serious willpower to keep her jaw from falling slack. "And now Lobos is trying to do the same."

"That he is, Miss Hopps."

With more time, she could've really considered everything and let her mind tear into the many details of what Lionheart was saying. But she needed info, and fast. "So why are you setting him up to fail?"

"What, no! That's not what I'm doing, Miss Hopps. Arturo and I are good friends. We go back a long ways, He was even on my campaign staff, pretty high ranking, too. I would never ruin him."

"Then why aren't you telling him that Kyle was untrustworthy?"

"Arturo _has_ known. Kyle was just too good at destroying evidence. There isn't near enough to send ZPD's finest after him. Plus, when you know who's leaking, you can better control the information going out. Arturo is smart enough to not spook him." He paused, lost in some great internal joke. "Though, I guess now, Kyle took _himself_ out of the equation."

The flowers in her trunk had probably turned to dust by this point. Judy made a mental note to check on Mansoa when she left Lionheart. Now she had more reasons to pay the hyena a visit if he awoke.

"But why wouldn't you tell me about this before? Why did you have to hide it?"

"The Council is scared of you, Hopps," Judy's eyes grew large upon hearing his response. "They think they have a bead on Lobos, but with you… after the Nighthowler debacle, they saw how strong you were. You are a true threat to their power, so I tried to scare you away — but once again I seem to have underestimated you."

That almost sounded like a compliment, and Judy forced herself not to blush. She still had so many more questions to ask Lionheart. She hadn't expected him to be so open about everything, so when he spilled everything out onto the cold, metal table, her paths of investigation multiplied. She didn't know where to begin.

Unfortunately, Robinson did. "Time's up!"

The black jaguar walked forward to lead Judy out of the room. She did what she could to protest and get a little more time, but she looked back at Lionheart. He smiled and told her to go using nothing more than a nod of his head. She stopped resisting and allowed Robinson to remove her from the interview space. Before she was forced out, Lionheart uttered one last chilling remark.

"They won't touch me in here — not yet, at least. But Arturo is in great danger. As are you."

* * *

Under the brightening sky outside the prison, Judy's paws began frantically searching through the contacts on her phone. She stopped the screen from scrolling down when she saw Bogo's name but hesitated to call him. This was a sensitive situation. She had to be careful who she talked to.

 _Can I trust him?_

Of course she could. There was no reason she could find to not trust him. Perhaps the frantic way her mind was running right now was affecting her judgment. Judy shook herself out of terrible fantasies and called Bogo. Her ears drooped as low as they could go when — just like with Nick — he didn't answer.

Disheartened, she flipped to the new notification that she had received while with Lionheart. It was an article published by the ZNN, one that she feared had to do with the election, or perhaps more on her interview with Peter Moosebridge from last night. Despite her reticence, Judy tapped on the notification, which loaded up the article.

She read the title and her eyes grew wide with surprise.

"Two Rainforest District Officers Arrested on Bribery Charges," Judy whispered to herself, voice ripe with disbelief. She continued to read through the article, finding out more and more about these officers. As she approached the end, learning about the payment they took and the Rainforest District watering hole that laundered their money, Judy realized that they were the two officers that had found Mansoa.

Everything felt wrong. The article rubbed her the wrong way, and now she had to figure out why. The morning opened in full bloom as she began digging.

Judy dialed up the hospital that held Kyle Mansoa. As she waited for the answer, her foot tapped the concrete below her rapidly. Just as she felt no one was going to answer, a calm female voice sent relief flooding through her body.

"Zootopia Central Hospital, how may I be of assistance?"

Judy spoke quickly. "Hello, I'm Officer Judy Hopps, ZPD. I was wondering if I could check in on the status of Kyle Mansoa, please."

"Alright, give me just one second, Officer Hopps."

Judy continued to tap her foot as she waited for the voice to get back to her. She ground her teeth as the delicate clacking sound of typing filtered through the phone's speaker.

"I'm sorry, but it appears that Mister Mansoa was checked out earlier today. But while I have you, I need to ask: Do you know the officers who found him? They're listed as the primary contact, but we haven't been able to get ahold of them. Would you be able to?"

It was electric, in an odd sense, the feeling of the world falling apart. The whole situation was going from bad to worse. In that moment, there was only one other person she thought would be able to help her, as much as she didn't want to talk to him right now.

Her voice came out shaky as she worked to get off this call. "I don't know them. I'm sorry, ma'am. Have a good day."

Her mind was racing, having a hard time figuring out her next best move. The amount of information that she had discovered was almost too much for her to handle. But she knew someone that did incredibly well under pressure.

It was the reason he made such a great campaign manager.

Maybe she had been so focused on pulling up Nick's contact info and worrying about what she would say, but she missed the footsteps behind her. Her ears caught the last one before a cloth was wrapped around her mouth. She instinctively dropped her phone and clawed at the paw holding the cloth but was unable to free herself. She fought even as the morning disappeared into the burlap bag being shoved over her head.

She felt the safety and security of the concrete sidewalk leave as she was lifted off the ground. The sound of a car door being slid open reached her ears. Judy had investigated a couple kidnappings already. They had been smaller cases, a parent stealing a child for an afternoon. The composure she had during those cases vanished as she was tossed to the floor of a van.

Before the door shut, she heard a tune from her phone. The telltale ringtone of her boss. In that moment, she hoped Chief Bogo was truly on her side. Someone needed to be.

* * *

A/N: Hey, Euphonemes here. Ande's been doing great so far - the delay is me :( . Not much time to do writing for free enjoyment, sad to say. But I'm glad we're finally getting this one out the door. We're nearing the end, so buckle up for the last few chapters! Thanks to all who read, fave, and follow.

 **A/N: Hey, it's Ande883. I'm so glad to have the next part of** _ **Run**_ **out for you guys! I need to extend a huge thanks for all of the welcoming reviews. While getting to be a part of this project was very exciting, it was also a little bit intimidating at first, so it felt good to know that I did well. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the rest of the story, and I look forward to hearing what you think!**

 **P.S. This was the first chapter that was written entirely by myself. Euph did most of the editing, but otherwise didn't do the writing, so hopefully it was good ;)**


	24. Chapter 7: Part III

_Run_

She had stopped shaking long ago. Well, maybe it was long ago, but she really couldn't tell. It sure felt like ages had passed, but in reality, it was probably no more than a couple of minutes that she had been shrouded in darkness. The shock of adrenaline was wearing off, but not totally gone. She was scared, though, no doubt about that. She couldn't move at all, her whole body felt numb.

The burlap sack made her itch as it rubbed against her neck and face. It was a shame that her paws were still locked behind her back. Being able to relieve herself of that slight discomfort felt like a desire of many years.

As if her captors could sense her silent plea, the bag was removed, as well as the cloth from her mouth. Her tongue felt dry, and she moved it around in her mouth to hopefully get it moist again. As she did so, she caught a few strands of cloth tasting of lemony spring detergent. Had she not just been kidnapped, she would have been flustered by them.

Judy blinked a few times, her eyes adjusted to the dark back of the cargo van, and she saw two familiar shapes staring back.

"Sorry about that, Miss Hopps. Let me be the first to say that this was not _my_ idea, per se."

Eyes went wide throughout the back of the van. Judy's mouth hung open, disbelief coursing through her veins as Arturo and Isabella watched her with a strange interest, made stranger once Judy reconciled seeing her captors in this rusty old van rather than the brightly-lit debate stage.

"Oh, Arturo, how _gracious_ you are," Isabella teased before turning to a truly confounded Judy. "It was as much his idea as it was mine."

"I only suggested it! I didn't think you would even consider the notion of kidnapping our oppone—"

"Enough!" Judy screamed, finally digging out some words buried somewhere in her shock. "Could someone please tell me what is going on?!"

Judy's eyes flicked to some movement in the cabin. Two other wolves sat in the front seats. The driver momentarily made eye contact with Judy before a soundproof partition slowly moved its way up and trapped their conversation to the three in the back.

Arturo examined the partition to ensure it was properly and fully sealed, though he kept his voice to a whisper as he addressed Judy. "Leodore figured it was time to bring you in. He called and told me to come and get you."

Judy cocked her head, hoping it would help her confused mind process this new info. All along, she'd thought of Lionheart as another crooked politician, lying and cheating to get what he wanted. Perhaps she was wrong about him. "You knew...about this…the whole time?" Judy said.

Arturo gained Judy's attention with a smile and a miniscule nod of his head. "We've both been very involved in keeping the Citizen's Council appeased, Miss Hopps. My darling wife has played a much larger role than you think."

"Of course. This campaign has taken so much of his time away. He couldn't have possibly done everything on his own, so I stepped in and did some of the work for him," Izabella added, her voice as buttery smooth as it had been during that ill-fated dinner. Judy hated how much she envied the wolf's calmness when to her it felt like things were going a million miles a second. For that matter, both wolves seemed so cool about the situation, almost like they were prepared for it.

"But wait... why exactly are you doing this? What part could I possibly play in this weird game?" Judy asked.

"As I said, Leodore felt that you were ready to know about the Council. But obviously, such information couldn't be given in the space of five minutes. We are his advocates, if you will. I would have much preferred a more formal and friendly greeting, but this one thought there wasn't enough time," Arturo said, pointing with his thumb over to his wife, who scoffed at him but decided not to press the issue any further. They had more important matters to discuss.

"So, Miss Hopps…ask away. What do you want to know?"

Her mind had been going at maximum speed the moment she was captured, so everything was still sinking in. And oh, did Judy have so many questions. It was impossible to know where to start.

She spent a few moments of the drive simply waiting for those two to explain themselves. Perhaps they'd figure out what the silence meant, or a wave of conscience would overtake them and they'd spill the beans. When that didn't happen, she paused and pondered.

Out of the whole mess, there was still one thing that she was as clueless on as ever. For the majority of her campaign, she had wondered what the Council actually did, and that was part of what she wanted to figure out.

"Why keep this a secret?" she asked. It was fair enough since she had been kept in the dark about the Council since she first thought about running for mayor. To her pleasant surprise, just like Lionheart, Arturo gave her a straight answer.

"We felt is was for the best. With where you are, it didn't seem fitting that you knew exactly how the city was run. We are still political opponents, Miss Hopps. I didn't feel that you would be ready to know this before you potentially took office."

Her earlier reticence slipped away, and long-held questions poured out of her. "But why not confront the Council directly? As the leader of the city, I'd think you'd be able to limit what they can and can't control."

Arturo smiled as she shook his head. "If only it were that simple. The Council runs the city, not me, and when Lionheart was in power, he didn't either. But we are two wolves, Miss Hopps. We can be easily removed, driven away. With where we are now, we can keep the Council just happy enough to prevent something terrible from happening."

"But what kind of bad stuff could the Council possibly cause? It seems to me that they need someone just as bad to work through."

"Use your imagination. Who do you think gave Bellwether access to the Nighthowlers? It was the Council that made that whole ordeal possible, and with something like that on their resumé, I don't think it would be smart for either of us to let our guard down in regards to what they can and can't do."

A shockwave pulsed through Judy's mind. She was unsure if she could really believe that it was the Citizen's Council that allowed the Nighthowler incident to happen. The thought of a group of mammals actually thinking that would be a good idea was… repulsive, but more than that, it was impossible. All this time, she thought it came from Bellwether's sick and perverted mind. This was much more disturbing knowing that several mammals wanted to see prey take over and subjugate predators like that.

"Why? Why would they do something like that? What could they possibly hope to gain?"

"It is the nature of the beast. They enjoy watching the world burn, though in the end, it boils down to power," Arturo said with discontent. "Discord is their specialty. By pitting predator against prey, they would have been able to take control without much trouble, and Bellwether was more than happy to go with it. The issue comes when you stopped her and exposed her plan. They didn't necessarily like you pulling back the curtain."

"So they decide to threaten me _now_? Why at this time?"

"Well, for starters, they thought they had another puppet when I gained control. They figured you were out of the question, and I'd be a walk in the park to control. No one ever guessed that you'd be interested in politics, so just like when you became a police officer, you shocked the entire city. By running for mayor, you threatened the Council again. They knew that you were a real threat to their way of life, so it was time for them to get rid of you, which, in their minds, would make it easier to take control of City Hall once I'd taken office. I would resist, of course, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't try."

"But what about Mansoa? Where does he come into all of this? Surely I'm missing something."

"We knew he was a mole for the Council. It was fairly obvious, after a little bit of observation, of course, that he was telling the Council about everything we did. The only issue was that we could never prove it, at least not until he went missing." Arturo emphasized the word "missing" with air quotes, telling Judy that his disappearance was not exactly as it seemed.

"We set him up with a fake report on spending money to improve a small community center in town. We caught him reporting in on it and confronted him, but he got the better of us and disappeared without a trace."

There was one thing that didn't make sense to Judy. "Why not tell the police that?"

"We wanted to try and handle it on our own. Already having a disadvantage with him being missing, we felt that police involvement might spook him further. It wasn't a risk we were willing to take."

Judy, being the one who investigated the Mansoa case, knew that there was a lot of media coverage of the investigation. While most of the attention was due to her position as a mayoral candidate and not about the actual case, it still made the whole incident known throughout the city. Had any other officer taken the case, it wouldn't have received nearly as much publicity, she figured.

There was a single memory about the Mansoa investigation that nearly slipped away into the depths of her mind, but she reeled it out, confused as to how the simple item played into all of this, if it did at all.

"But what about the shirt?" Judy asked, remembering the article of clothing being sized for a mammal no larger than Mansoa. Judy heard Izabella chuckle from the other side of the car.

"My husband tried to do laundry once. He set the dry cycle too high and his favorite campaign shirt shriveled. When it came out, it was barely big enough to fit a normal sized-hyena."

"And that was the last time she let me do laundry, too. It wasn't the only bit of clothing that became atrociously small that night," Arturo added with a chuckle.

"But why even put it out there? Were you trying to throw us off?"

"Not at all, Miss Hopps," Lobos said. "We hoped it would get him out of hiding, or at least get someone to look harder. It didn't work in our favor, however. They just wanted more of you."

Judy was starting to feel things click. This new information proved to be incredibly useful, but she couldn't quite put all of the pieces together. Her mind kept going back to her interview on Peter Moosebridge's show.

"Forgive me for asking this, but I am rather curious, Mrs. Lobos. Was it you that exposed my feelings for Nick?"

The she-wolf smiled, brushing off any ill feelings born from Judy's accusation. "Not at all. Those are your feelings, Miss Hopps. I would never share something like that so callously."

"Then who did?"

"I suppose anyone could have guessed it. You two do work tremendously close together. I imagine it was only a matter of time before someone started up that rumor."

Thinking about it that way made her realize just how obvious she must have been without her even realizing it. Judy had always been someone to really show her feelings, though would tread lightly around things as personal and private as that. However, this was the least of her concern at the time. Judy, Arturo, and Izabella knew that there were much more important things to be discussed.

"What do we do about them?" Judy asked. "Is the city ready to know about the Council?"

Arturo nodded. "Now is the time to expose them, Ms. Hopps. I can only imagine it would cause even more unease with our fellow Zootopians if we waited until after the election. The Council is not going to go away on its own, nor is it going to be as simple as flicking away a crumb from your shirt. It may take some time to be rid of them entirely, but the sooner we start, the better."

"Wouldn't it have been a bit easier to tell me this nearer the beginning of the campaign? Seems to me like you've wasted a lot of valuable time."

"Well… yes and no. Yes, it would have been great to have several days added to exposing the Council, but remember, you aren't exactly a political veteran, Miss Hopps. To throw you into _another_ government conspiracy would be like tossing a two-year-old in a lake and expecting them to swim. You needed to figure things out for yourself, first, then we could bring you into it."

Judy realized that he was right. As much as they needed time on their side, her jumping right into this would have been potentially disastrous. But as she continued to think, she started to wonder how much of this she actually figured out on her own. Since the first day of her candidacy, Nick was by her side almost constantly, and when he wasn't, he was destroying his phone battery trying to make sure that she was ready for everything. Her interview with Peter Moosebridge marked the first time she'd truly been alone since the beginning. It made her realize how much she needed him.

"I have no idea what to do, Arturo. I know what I want, but… I keep asking myself, did I make a mistake by getting into this? Would it all be worth it in the end if we had to go through this whole charade just to try and help people?"

"I think the journey is ninety percent of the fun. If helping people was easy, wouldn't everyone do it? You have a knack for it, Miss Hopps. Though things may seem a bit unclear, now, I know you'll figure it out." Arturo seemed to end at that, though soon his eyes lit up quizzically. "Might I ask, where is Nick? Izabella and I have greatly enjoyed speaking with him."

Judy's eyes flicked toward everything but the two wolves waiting for her response. Her paws laid stationary in her lap as she built up the courage to speak the truth that she was afraid to realize herself.

"I...I don't know. I haven't seen him in a long time. I...I think he's gone…"

"What do you mean, gone?" Arturo asked. "You don't mean to say that he's left you, do you?"

The rabbit blinked her eyes rapidly to fight away the tears that threatened to spill out in rivers. Her paws gripped at the fabric of her clothes, fraying their threads as she tried to release her mixture of frustration and need for Nick. "He hasn't answered his phone. I've called him probably thirty times, but each time it goes to voicemail."

Arturo looked with sympathy on the rabbit. "I'm sorry to hear that. If you don't mind me asking, did it have to do with… the relationship between you two that caused him to leave?"

"I don't know… I haven't really known what to think ever since he stormed off."

"You ended up here, didn't you? Seems to me that you don't absolutely _need_ him, per se. I think you're perfectly capable of handling things on your own, but, Miss Hopps," Arturo pointed a finger directly at Judy. "Do you think you're better with him, or better yet, does he make you _want_ to be a better mammal? Because if everything he did for you was only to benefit himself, then I'd say you're better off without him."

"I don't know what to think," she sighed. Judy dropped her head into her paws and rubbed her brow tenderly. "I just want to find him."

The group sat silently for a while, pondering their next move in the privacy of their heads. Judy's mind was mostly filled with thoughts of Nick: where he was, what he was doing, what he was thinking. She only hoped that he was alright. A part of her worried that there was a reason he wasn't answering his phone, and it wasn't because he was ignoring her. Anytime she couldn't get ahold of someone, these thoughts ran their course in her mind, but at a time like this, she genuinely worried that Nick was not okay.

Those thoughts didn't last more than a couple of minutes. A large jolt hit the rear of the van and nearly knocked Judy to the floor. From outside, she could hear the roar of another engine, and her eyes widened as she realized that things were about to get a bit crazy.

"Baby! What the hell is going on?" Arturo shouted as he hit the partition a few times with his fist. It slowly rolled down and the wolf driver looked back enough to get his voice to them, but still kept his eyes on the road.

"We've got company. Tighten your seatbelts."

"We don't have seatbelts back here!" Judy shouted as Baby floored the accelerator and pushed everyone toward the back of the van. The rabbit braced herself as Arturo and Izabella struggled to stay in their seats nearer the front. Her opponent, her...friend, looked up at her with a piercing gaze of fear and worry.

"What's happening, Arturo?" Judy shouted amidst the noises of engines and steel against steel every time the pursuers tried to take out their van.

"I don't know, but someone doesn't want us to be in this van together!"

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Before Arturo could issue his response, the van took a massive hit and spun the vehicle to the left. What Judy couldn't see was the rear tires lifting off of the ground ever so slightly. In the next half of a second, the tires touched the ground and the van's high center of gravity took control away from Baby as it began its downward descent to the ground.

Judy instantly felt weightless as the van rolled over at a speed she was unsure of, but knew to be well over the legal limit. A split second of silence passed as Judy locked eyes with Izabella. The she-wolf froze as she realized instantly what was about to happen.

With a piercing screech of steel against asphalt and a boom as loud as a shotgun, the side of the van slammed into the road below. It teetered, thought about rolling over again, and finally settled with a dull thud. Judy was thrown forward and felt her world darken as her head hammered the roof. She slumped down and blinked several times before reaching out to the wolf pair who was now laying in a pile, not moving and bouncing as the van slid to a halt.

Judy tried to move, but the pain in her head was incapacitating and painful. She called out to Arturo and Izabella in a weak voice, but they could not hear her. They didn't move or respond in any way. Judy knew they were unconscious.

The sound of the rear doors being forced open was like a gunshot. She covered her sensitive ears as the doors were rent apart, so loud she feared her ears would bleed. Bright headlights of their pursuer's van shone directly into her eyes, and Judy lost all strength to keep her arms up. Two larger mammals tended to the wolves and a smaller one approached Judy, though due to the lights, their faces remained a mystery.

Strange voices filled her head, none of them familiar, but gruff and deep — definitely male. Suddenly she felt herself being lifted into the air by the strange figure. Her body was too weak to try and fight back, and with every passing second, she felt herself trying to maintain consciousness, A battle she would soon lose. Before she surrendered, gave in to the quiet and darkness, one voice rose and chilled her whole body.

"Hello, there, Officer Hopps. You finally found me."

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! It's been almost nine months since this story was last updated… and I'm really sorry about that. I got stuck not far into it and that escalated into a huge absence from any work on the story. But, I will not stop until this story is complete, don't you worry! The end is so close I can taste it! Hope you enjoyed, and thanks for sticking with it! -Ande883**


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